








n\t ui/ 


*hr 


1 

i 1 


1 tl 


iij 


J 

lillt 

’ • 



y \ 

» t f 



jy?'. 


V 




1 







•w! 


sywLj 

Y\ .\ ' u '1U 

JKjj'lJV® /// ‘‘‘ • > VH j 

*A r, 03 

la 

Jas 



























































































.. 

























' 



















































































































































































* 




















, 








































































- 






























































/ 








•m 











































\ 





















































% 












I J f 






































































$ 

* 

. 

' 
























































































* 






























v- 






































































































































V 4 
















THE 


BUSH-BOYS; 

OR, 

THE HISTORY AND ADVENTURES 

OF 

A CAPE FARMER AND HIS FAMILY 


IN THE 

WILD KAROOS OF SOUTHERN AFRICA. 


BY 

CAPTAIN MAYNE REID, 

* > 

AUTHOR OF “THE BOY HUNTERS,” “THE YOUNG YOYAGEURS,” 
“FOREST EXILES,” ETC. 


STfoel&e Illustrations. 

A NEW EDITION, 

WITH A MEMOIR BY R. H. STODDARD. 


NEW YORK: 

THOMAS R. KNOX & CO., 

Successors to James Miller, 

818 Broadway. 

1885. 



Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1856, by 
TICKNOR AND FIELDS, 

in the Clerk’s Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 


Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1884, by 
THOMAS R. KNOX & CO., 
in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 


New York, January 1st, 1869. 

Messrs. Fields, Osgood & Co.:— 

I accept the terms offered, and hereby concede to you the exclusive right of 
publication, in the United States, of all my juvenile Tales of Adventure, known 
as Boys’ Novels. 

MAYNE REID. 





TROW’8 

PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY, 


MEMOIR OF MAYNE REID, 


No one who has written books for the young during the 
present century ever had so large a circle of readers as 
Captain Mayne Reid, or ever was so well fitted by circum- 
stances to write the books by which he is chiefly known. 
His life, which was an adventurous one, was ripened with 
the experience of two Continents, and his temperament, 
which was an ardent one, reflected the traits of two races. 
Irish by birth, he was American in his sympathies with 
the people of the New World, whose acquaintance he 
made at an early period, among whom he lived for years, 
and whose battles he helped to win. He was probably 
more familiar with the Southern and Western portion of 
the United States forty years ago than any native-born 
American of that time. A curious interest attaches to the 
life of Captain Reid, but it is not of the kind that casual 
biographers dwell upon. If he had written it himself it 
would have charmed thousands of readers, who can now 
merely imagine what it might have been from the glimpses 
of it which they obtain in his writings. It was not passed 
in the fierce light of publicity, but in that simple, silent 
obscurity^ which is the lot of most men, and is their hap- 
piness, if they only knew it. 

Briefly related, the life of Captain Reid was as follows : 
He was born in 1818, in the north of Ireland, the son of 
a Presbyterian clergyman, who was a type of the class 
which Goldsmith has described so freshly in the ‘ ‘ Deserted 
Village,” and was highly thought of for his labors among 
the poor of his neighborhood. An earnest, reverent man, 
to whom his calling was indeed a sacred one, he designed 
his son Mayne for ther ministry, in the hope, no doubt, 
that he would be his successor. But nature had some- 
thing to say about that, as well as his good father. He 
began to study for the ministry, but it was not long before 

1 


he was drawn in another direction. Always a great reader, 
his favorite books were descriptions of travel in foreign 
lands, particularly those which dealt with the scenery, 
the people, and the resources of America. The spell which 
these exercised over his imagination, joined to a love of 
adventure which was inherent in his temperament, and 
inherited, perhaps with his race, determined his career. 
At the age of twenty he closed his theological tomes, and 
girding up his loins with a stout heart he sailed from the 
shores of the Old World for the New. Following the 
spirit in his feet he landed at New Orleans, which was 
probably a more promising field for a young man of his 
talents than any Northern city, and was speedily engaged 
in business. The nature of this business is not stated, 
further than it was that of a trader ; but whatever it was 
it obliged this young Irishman to make long journeys into 
the Interior of the country, which was almost a terra in- 
cognita. Sparsely settled, where settled at all, it was still 
clothed in primeval verdure— here in tbe endless reach of 
savannas, there in the depth of pathless woods, and far 
away to the North and the West in those monotonous 
ocean-like levels of land for which the speech of England 
has no name — the Prairies. Its population was nomadic, 
not to say barbaric, consisting of tribes of Indians whose 
hunting grounds from time immemorial the region was ; 
hunters and trappers, who had turned their backs upon 
civilization for the free, wild life of nature ; men of 
doubtful or dangerous antecedents, who had found it con- 
venient to leave their country for their country’s good ; 
and scattered about hardy pioneer communities from East- 
ern States, advancing waves of the great sea of emigration 
which is still drawing the course of empire westward. 
Travelling in a country like this, and among people like 
these, Mayne Reid passed five years of his early manhood. 
He was at home wherever he went, and never more so 
than when among the Indians of the Red River territory, 
with whom he spent several months, learning their lan- 
guage, studying their customs, and enjoying the wild and- 
beautiful scenery of their camping grounds. Indian for 
the time, he lived in their lodges, rode with them, hunted 
with them, and night after night sat by their blazing 
camp-fires listening to the warlike stories of the braves 
and the quaint legends of the medicine men. There was 
that in the blood of Mayne Reid which fitted him to lead 
this life at this time, and whether he knew it or not it 

2 


educated his genius as no other life could have done. It 
familiarized him with a large extent of country in the 
South and West ; it introduced him to men and manners 
which existed nowhere else ; and it revealed to him the 
secrets of Indian life and character. 

There was another side, however, to Mayne Reid than 
that we have touched upon, and this, at the end of five 
years, drew him back to the average life of his kind. We * 
find him next in Philadelphia, where he began to con- 
tribute stories and sketches of travel to the newspapers 
and magazines. Philadelphia was then the most literate 
city in the United States, the one in which a clever writer 
was at once encouraged and rewarded. Frank and warm- 
hearted, he made many friends there among journalists 
and authors. One of these friends was Edgar Allan Poe, 
whom he often visited at his home in Spring Garden, and 
concerning whom years after, when he was dead, he wrote 
with loving tenderness. 

The next episode in the career of Mayne Reid was not 
what one would expect from a man of letters, though it 
was just what might have been expected from a man of 
his temperament and antecedents. It grew out of the 
time, which was warlike, and it drove him into the army 
with which the United States speedily crushed the forces 
of the sister Republic — Mexico. He obtained a commis- 
sion, and served throughout the war with great bravery 
and distinction. This stormy episode ended with a severe 
wound, which he received in storming the heights of Cha- 
pultepeo — a terrible battle which practically ended the 
war. 

A second episode of a similar character, but with a more 
fortunate conclusion, occurred about four years later. It 
grew out of another war, which, happily for us, was not on 
our borders, but in the heart of Europe, where the Hun- 
garian race had risen in insurrection against the hated power 
of Austria. Their desperate valor in the face of tremen- 
dous odds excited the sympathy of the American people, 
and fired the heart of Captain Mayne Reid, who buckled 
on his sword once more, and sailed from New York with 
a body of volunteers to kid the Hungarians in their struggles 
for independence. They were too late, for hardly had 
they reached Paris before they learned that all was over : 
Gorgey had surrendered at Arad, and Hungary was 
crushed. They were at once dismissed, and Captain Reid 
betook himself to London. 


3 


The life of the Mayne Reid in whom we are most in* 
terested — Mayne Reid, the author — began at this time, 
when he was in his thirty-first year, and ended only on 
the day of his death, October 21, 1883. It covered one- 
third of a century, and was, when compared with that 
which had preceded it, uneventful, if not devoid of in- 
cident. There is not much that needs be told — not much, 
indeed, that can be told — in the life of a man of letters 
like Captain Mayne Reid. It is written in his books. 
Mayne Reid was one of the best known authors of his 
time — differing in this from many authors who are popu- 
lar without being known — and in the walk of fiction which 
he discovered for himself he is an acknowledged mas-' 
ter. His reputation did not depend upon the admiration 
of the millions of young people who read his books, but 
upon the judgment of mature critics, to whom his delinea- 
tions of adventurous life were literature of no common 
order. His reputation as a story-teller was widely recog- 
nized on, the Continent, where he was accepted as an 
authority in regard to the customs of the pioneers and the 
guerilla warfare of the Indian tribes, and was warmly 
praised for his freshness, his novelty, and his hardy origi- 
nality. The people of France and Germany delighted in 
this soldier-writer. ‘ ‘ There was not a word in his books 
which a school-boy could not safely read aloud to his 
mother and sisters.” So says a late English critic, to which 
another adds, that if he has somewhat gone out of fashion 
of late years, the more’s the pity for the school-boy of the 
period. What Defoe is in Robinson Crusoe — realistic idyl 
of island solitude — that, in his romantic stories of wilder- 
ness life, is his great scholar, Captain Mayne Reid. 

R. H. Stoddard. 


4 


CONTENTS 


WAP PAOl 

I. THE BOORS ...1 

II. THE KRAAL . . ; • 

m. THE SPRINGHAAN 18 

IV. A TALK ABOUT LOCUSTS 

V THE LOCUST-FLIGHT 83 

VL “INSPANN AND TREK” 89 

VII. “WATER! WATER!” Aft 

Vm. THE FATE OF THE HERD .,83 

IX. A LION “COUCH ANT” .81 

X. A LION IN THE TRAP , . 88 

XI. THE DEATH OF THE LION . Tft 

XII. A TALK ABOUT LIONS 82 

XIH. THE TRAVELLERS BENIGHTED '. . 87 

Xrv.-THE TREK-BOKEN .... 91 

XV. SPOORING FOR A SPRING 104 

XVI. THE TERRIBLE TSETSE 110 

XVII. THE LONG-HORNED RHINOCEROS ...... 118 

tvm. A HEAVY COMBAT . . 12fi 

XIX. THE DEATH OF THE ELEPHANT ... ... 133 

XX. TURNED HUNTERS 141 

XXI. JERKING AN ELEPHANT 147 

XXn. THE HIDEOUS HYENA 163 

IXIII. STALKING THE OUREBI 160 

XXIV. LITTLE JAN 8 ADVENTURE 170 

XXV. A CHAPTER UPON HYENAS .... ... 171 


IY 


CONTENTS 


CHAP PAG1 

XXVI. A HOUSE AMONG THE TREE-TOPS .... 18* 

XXVII. THE BATTLE OF THE WILD PEACOCKS . . . .191 

* 

XXVIII. UPON THE SPOOR . . ’ 199 

XXIX. A ROGUE ELEPHANT 207 

XXX. THE MISSING HUNTER, AND THE WILDEBEESTS 217 

XXXI. THE ANT-EATER OF AFRICA 225 

XXXII. HANS CHASED BY THE WILDEBEEST .... 231 

XXXIII. BESIEGED BY THE BULL 238 

XXXIV. A HELPLESS BEAST 244 

XXXV. THE ELEPHANT’S SLEEPING-ROOM 251 

LXXVI. MAKING THE ELEPHANT’S BED 257 

4XXVH. THE WILD ASSES OF AFRICA 263 

AjrnnrT- planning the capture of the quaggas . . 2U 

JLXXTX. the PIT-TRAP 279 

XL. DRIVING IN THE ELAND 288 

AM A WILD RIDE ON QUAGGA-BACK .... .294 

AlU. THE GUN-TRAP 304 

JOAH £HE WEAVER-BIRDS 311 

&UY. THE SPITTING-SNAKE 317 

„ SLY. THE SERPENT-EATER . 327 

£LVL TOTTY AND THE CHACMAS 832 

ULVn. THE WILD HOUNDS AND THE HARTEBEE8T . . . 34^ 

ALVUL CQttWL ON 343 


THE BUSH-BOYS. 


CHAPTER I. 

THE BOORS. 

Hendrik Yon Bloom was a boor . 

My young English reader, do not suppose that I 
mean any disrespect to Mynheer Von Bloom, by 
calling him a “ boor/ 7 In our good Cape colony a 
rt boor 77 is a farmer. It is no reproach to be called 
a farmer. Van Bloom was one — a Dutch farmer of 
the Cape — a boor. 

The boors of the Cape colony have figured very 
considerably in modern history. Although naturally 
a people inclined to peace, they have beenJorced into 
various wars, both with native Africans and Euro- 
peans ; and in these wars they have acquitted them- 
selves admirably, and given proofs that a pacific 
people, when need be, can fight just as well as those 
who are continually exulting in the ruffian glory of 
the soldier. 

But the boors have been accused of cruelty in 
1 


2 


THE BOORS. 


theii wars ; especially those earned on against the 
native races. In an abstract point of view the accu- 
sation might appear just. But when we come to 
consider the provocation received at the hands of 
these savage enemies., we learn to look mr re lenient- 
ly upon the conduct of the Cape Butch. It is true 
they reduced the yellow Hottentots to a state of 
slavery ; but at that same time we, the English, were 
transporting ship-loads of black Guineamen across the 
Atlantic, while the Spaniards and Portuguese were 
binding the red men of America in fetters as tight 
and hard. 

Another point to be considered is the character of 
the natives with whom the Butch boors had to deal. 
The keenest cruelty inflicted upon them by the colo- 
nists was mercy, compared with the treatment which 
these savages had to bear at the hands of their own 
despots. 

This does not justify the Butch for having reduced 
the Hottentots to a state of slavery ; but, all circum- 
stances considered, there is no one of the maritime 
nations who can gracefully accuse them of cruelty. 
In their dealings with the aborigines of the Cape, they 
have had to do with savages of a most wicked and 
degraded stamp ; and the history of colonization, 
under such circumstances, could not be otherwise 
than full of unpleasant episodes. 

Young reader, I could easily defend the conduct 
of the boors of Cape colony, but I have not spac6 
nere. I can only give you my opinion ; and that is 
that they are a brave, strong, healthy, moral, peace 
loving, industrious race ; lovers of truth, and friends 


THE BOORS. 


a 


wo republican freedom ; in short, a noble lace of 
men. 

Is it likely, then, when I called Hendrik Yon 
Bloom a boor, that I meant him any disrespect? 
Quite the contrary. 

But Mynheer Hendrik had not always been a boor. 
He could boast of a somewhat higher condition ; 
that is, he could boast of a better education than the 
mere Cape farmer usually possesses, as well as some 
experience in wielding the sword. He was not a 
native of the colony, but of the mother country ; and 
he had found his way to the Cape, not as a poor 
adventurer seeking his fortune, but as an officer in a 
Dutch regiment then stationed there. 

His soldier-service in the colony was not of long 
duration. A certain cherry-cheeked, flaxen-haired 
Gertrude, the daughter of a rich boor, had taken a 
liking to the young lieutenant ; and he, in his turn, 
became vastly fond of her. The consequence was 
that they got married. Gertrude’s father dying 
shortly after, the large farm, with its full stock of 
horses and Hottentots, broad-tailed sheep and long- 
horned oxen, became hers. This was an inducement 
for her soldier-husband to lay down the sword and 
turn “ vee-boor,” or stock farmer, which he conse- 
quently did. 

These incidents occurred many years previous to 
the English becoming masters of the Cape colony 
When that event came to pass, Hendrik Yon Bloom 
was already a man of influence in the colony, and 
" field-cornet” of his district, which lay in the beau- 
tiful county of Graaf Reinet. He was then a 


i 


THE BOORS. 


widower, tne father of a small family. The wife 
whom he had fondly loved, the cherry-cheeked, flax 
en-haired Gertrude, no longer lived. 

History will tell you how the Dutch colonists, dis- 
contented with English rule, 'rebelled against it. 
The ex-lieutenant and field-cornet was one of the 
most prominent among these rebels. History will also 
tell you how the rebellion was put down ; and how 
several of those compromised were brought to exe- 
cution. Yon Bloom escaped by flight; but his fine 
property in the Graaf Reinet was confiscated and 
given to another. 

Many years after, we find him living in a remote 
district beyond the great Orange river, leading the 
life of a “ trek-boor ; ” that is, a nomade farmer, who 
has no fixed or permanent abode, but moves with 
his flocks from place to place, wherever good pas- 
tures and water may tempt him. 

From about this time dates my knowledge of the 
field-cornet and his family. Of his history previous 
to this I have stated all I know, but for a period of 
many years after I am more minutely acquainted 
with it. Most of its details I received from the lips 
of his own son. I was greatly interested, and, in- 
deed, instructed, by them. They were my first les- 
sons in African zoology. 

Believing, boy-reader, that they might also instruct 
and interest you, I here lay tfiem before you. You 
are not to regard them as merely fanciful. The 
descriptions of the wild creatures that play their 
parts in this little history, as well as the acts, habits ; 
and instincts, assigned to them, you may regard aff 


THE BOORS. 


ft 

liue to nature. Young Yon Blcom was a student 
of nature, and you may depend upon the fidelity of 
his descriptions. 

Disgusted with politics, the field-cornet now dwelt 
on the remote frontier ; in fact, beyond the frontier, 
for the nearest settlement was an hundred miles off, 
His “ kraal ” was in a district bordering the great 
Kalihari desert — the Saara of Southern Africa. The 
region around, for hundreds of miles, was uninhabited, 
for the thinly-scattered, half-human Bushmen who 
dwelt within its limits hardly deserved the name of 
inhabitants any more than the wild beasts that 
howled around them. 

I have said that Yon Bloom now followed the 
occupation of a “ trek-boor.” Farming in the Cape 
colony consists principally in the rearing of horses, 
cattle, sheep, and goats ; and these animals form the 
wealth of the boor. But the stock of our field-cornet 
was now a very small one. The proscription had 
swept away all his wealth, and he had not been for- 
tunate in his first essays as a nomade grazier. The 
emancipation law, passed by the British government, 
extended not only to the negroes of the West India 
Islands, but also to the Hottentots of the Cape ; and 
the result of it was that the servants of Mynheer 
Yon Bloom had deserted him. His cattle, no longer 
properly cared for, had strayed off. Some of them 
fell a prey to wild beasts ; some died of the murrain. 
His horses, too, were decimated by that mysterious 
disease of Southern Africa, the “ horse-sickness 
while his sheep and goats were continually being 
attacked and diminished in numbers by the earth- 


6 


THE BOORS. 


wolf, the wild hound, and the hyena. A series of 
losses had he suffered, until his horses, oxen, sheep, 
and goats, scarce counted altogether an hundred 
head. A very small stock for a vee-boor, or South 
African grazier. 

Withal our field-cornet was not unhappy. He 
looked around upon his three brave sons — Hans, 
Hendrik, and Jan. He looked upon his cherry- 
cheeked, flaxen-haired daughter, Gertrude, the very 
type and image of what her mother had been. From 
these he drew the hope of a happier future. 

His two eldest boys were already helps to him in 
his daily occupations ; the youngest would soon be 
so likewise. In Gertrude, or “ Triiey,” as she was 
endearingly styled, he would soon have a capital 
housekeeper. He was not unhappy, therefore ; and 
if an occasional sigh escaped him, it was when the 
face of the little Triiey recalled the memory of that 
Gertrude who was now in heaven. 

But Hendrik Yon Bloom was not the man to des 
pair. Disappointments had not succeeded in causing 
his spirits to droop. He only applied himself more 
ardently to the task of once more building up his 
fortune. 

For himself he had no ambition to be rich. He 
would have been contented with the simple life he 
was leading, and would have cared but little to in- 
crease his wealth. But other considerations weighed 
upon his mind — the future of his little family. He 
could not suffer his children to grow up in the midst 
of the wild plains without education. 

N o ; they must one day return to the abodes of 


THE BOORS. 


1 

men, to ict their part in the drama of social and 
cirilized life. This was his design. 

But how was this design to be accomplished ? 
Though his so-called act of treason had been par- 
doned, and he was now free to return within the 
limits of the colony, he was ill-prepared for such a 
purpose. His poor wasted stock would not suffice 
to set him up within the settlements. It would 
scarce keep him a month. To return would be to 
return a beggar ! 

Reflections of this kind sometimes gave him anx- 
iety. But they also added energy to his disposition, 
and rendered him more eager to overcome the obsta- 
cles before him. 

During the present year he had been very indus- 
trious. In order that his cattle should be provided 
for in the season of winter, he had planted a large 
quantity of maize and buckwheat, and now the crops 
of both were in the most prosperous condition. His 
garden, too, smiled, and promised a profusion of 
fruits, and melons, and kitchen vegetables. In short, 
the little homestead, where he had fixed himself for 
a time, was a miniature oasis ; and he rejoiced day 
after day, as his eyes rested upon the ripening aspect 
around him. Once more he began to dream of pros- 
perity ; once more to hope that his evil fortunes had 
come to an end. 

Alas ! it was a false hope. A series of trials yet 
awaited him ; a series of misfortunes, that deprived 
him of almost everything he possessed, and com- 
pletely changed his mode of existence. 

Perhaos these occurrences could hardly be termed 


8 


THE BOORS. 


misfortunes , since, in the end, they led to a happy 
result. 

But you may judge for yourself, boy-reader, aftei 
you have heard the “ history and adventures ” of the 

“ trek -boor ” and his family 


THE KRAAL. 


3 


CHAPTER II 

THE “ KRAAL.” 

The ex-field-cornet was seated in front of his kraai 
— for such is the name of a South African homestead 
From his lips protruded a large pipe, with its huge 
bowl of meerschaum. Every boor is a smoker. 

Notwithstanding the many losses and crosses of 
his past life, there was contentment in his eye. He 
was gratified by the prosperous appearance of his 
crops. The maize was now “ in the milk,” and the 
ears, folded within the papyrus-like husks, looked 
full and large. It was delightful to hear the rustling 
of the long green blades, and see the bright golden 
tassels waving in the breeze. The heart of the 
farmer was glad as his eye glanced over his promis- 
ing crop of “ mealies.” 

But there was another promising crop that still 
more gladdened his heart — his fine children. There 
they are, all around him. 

Hans, the oldest, steady, sober Hans, at work in 
the well-stocked garden ; while the diminutive but 
sprightly imp Jan, the youngest, is looking on, and 
occasionally helping his brother. Hendrik, the 
dashing Hendrik, with bright face and light curling 
haii, is busy among the horses, in the “ horse-kraal 
and Triiey, the beautiful, cherry-cheeked, flaxen- 


iO 


THE KRAAL 


Laired Triiey, is engaged with her pet, a fawn of 
the springbok gazelle, wdiose bright eyes rival hei 
own in their expression of innocence and loveliness. 

Yes, the heart of the field-cornet is glad as ho 
glances from :me to the other of these his children — 
and with reason. They are all fair to look upon ; 
all give promise of goodness. If their father feels 
an occasional pang, it is, as we have already said, 
when his eye rests upon the cherry-cheeked, flaxen 
Haired Gertrude. 

But time has long since subdued that grief to a 
gentle melancholy. Its pang is short-lived, and the 
face of the field-cornet soon lightens up again as he 
looks around upon his dear children, so full of hope 
and promise. 

Hans and Hendrik are already strong enough to 
assist him in his occupations ; in fact, with the 
exception of “ Swartboy,” they are the only help 
he has. 

Who is Swartboy ? 

Look into the horse-kraal, and you will there see 
Swartboy engaged, along with his young master 
Hendrik, in saddling a pair of horses. You may 
notice that Swartboy appears to be about thirty 
years old, and he is full that ; but if you were to 
apply a measuring rule to him, you would find him 
not much over four feet in height! He is stoutly 
built, however, and would measure better in a hori- 
zontal direction. You may notice that he is of a 
yellow complexion, although his name might lead 
you to fancy he was black — for “ Swartboy ” means 
" black-boy ” You may observe that his nose is flat 


THE KRAAL. 


n 


and sunk below the level of his cheeks ; that his 
cheeks are prominent, his lips very thick, his nos- 
trils wide, his face beardless, and his head almost 
hairless ; for the small kinky wool-knots thinly scat- 
tered over his skull can scarcely be designated hair. 
You may notice, moreover, that his head is mon- 
strously large, with ears in proportion ; and that the 
eyes are set obliquely, and have a Chinese expres- 
sion. Y'ou may notice about Swartboy all those 
characteristics that distinguish the “ Hottentots ” of 
South Africa. 

Yet Swartboy is not a Hottentot — though he is 
of the same race. He is a Bushman. 

How came this wild Bushman into the service of 
the ex-field-cornet Yon Bloom ? About that there is 
a little romantic history. Thus : 

Among the savage tribes of Southern Africa there 
exists a very cruel custom — that of abandoning 
their aged or infirm, and often their sick or wounded, 
to die in the desert. Children leave their parents 
behind them, and the wounded are often forsaken by 
their comrades, with no other provision made for 
them beyond a day’s food and a cup of water ! 

The Bushman Swartboy had been the victim of 
this custom. He had been upon a hunting excur- 
sion with some of his own kindred, and had been 
sadly mangled by a lion. His comrades, not expect- 
ing him to live, left him on the plain to die ; and 
most certainly would he have perished had it not 
been for our field-cornet. The latter, as he was 
trekking ” over the plains, found the wounded 
Bushman, lifted him into his wagon, carried him ov 


12 


THE KRAAL. 


to his camp, dressed his wounds, and nursed him till 
he became well. That is how Swartboy came to be 
in the service of the field-cornet. 

Though gratitude is not a characteristic of nia 
race, Swartboy was not ungrateful. When all the 
other servants ran away, he remained faithful to his 
master ; and since that time had been a most efficient 
and useful hand. In fact, he was now the only one 
left, with the exception of the girl, Totty — who 
was, of course, a Hottentot, and much about the 
same height, size, and color, as Swartboy himself. 

We have said that Swartboy and the young Hen- 
drik were saddling a pair of horses. As soon as 
they had finished that job, they mounted them, and, 
riding out of the kraal, took their way straight across 
the plain. They were followed by a couple of strong, 
rough-looking dogs. 

Their purpose was to drive home the oxen and the 
other horses that were feeding a good distance oft 
This they were in the habit of doing every evening 
at the same hour ; for in South Africa it is necessary 
to shut up all kinds of live stock at night, to protect 
them from beasts of prey. For this purpose are 
built several enclosures with high walls, — “ kraals,” 
as they are called ; a word of the same signification 
as the Spanish “ corral,” and I fancy introduced 
into Africa by the Portuguese, since it is not a native 
term. 

These kraals are important structures about the 
homestead of a boor, — almost as much so as his 
own dwelling-house, which of itself also bears the 
name of “ kraal.” 


THE KRAAL. 


13 


As youag Hendrik and Swartboy rode off foi UV 
aorses and cattle, Hans, leaving* his work in th' 
garden, proceeded to collect the sheep and drivi 
them home. These browsed in a different direction 
but, as they were near, he went a-foot, taking little 
Jan along with him. 

Triiey, having tied her pet to a post, had gone in 
side the house to help Totty in preparing the supper. 
Thus the field-cornet was left to himself and his pipe, 
which he still continued to smoke. 

He sat in perfect silence, though he could scarce 
restrain from giving expression to the satisfaction he 
felt at seeing his family thus industriously employed. 
Though pleased with all his children, it must be con- 
fessed he had some little partiality for the dashing 
Hendrik, who bore his own name, and who reminded 
aim more of his own youth than any of the others. 
He was proud of Hendrik’s gallant horsemanship, 
and his eyes followed him over the plain until the 
riders were nearly a mile off, and already mixing 
among the cattle. 

At this moment an object came under the eyes of 
Von Bloom, that at once arrested his attention. It 
was a cuiious appearance along the lower part of the 
6ky, in the direction in which Hendrik and Swartboy 
had gone, but apparently beyond them. It resem- 
bled a dun-colored mi>*t or smoke, as if the plain at a 
great distance was on fire ! 

Could that be so ? Had some one fired the karoo 
hushes ? Or was it a cloud of dust ? 

The vdnd was hardly strong enough to raise such 
a dust, ar.d yet it had that appearance. Was it 

A 


14 


THE KRAAI 


caused by animals ? Might it not be the dust raise J 
by a great herd of antelopes — a migration of the 
springboks, for instance ? It extended for miles 
along the horizon, but Von Bloom knew that these 
creatures often travel in flocks of greater extent 
than miles. Still he could not think it was that. 

He continued to gaze at the strange phenomenon, 
endeavoring to account for it in various ways. It 
seemed to be rising higher against the blue sky — 
now resembling dust, now like the smoke of a wide- 
ly-spread conflagration, and now like a reddish cloud. 
It was in the west, and already the setting sun was 
obscured by it. It had passed over the sun’s disc 
like a screen, and his light no longer fell upon the 
plain. Was it the forerunner of some terrible storm ? 
— of an earthquake ? 

Such a thought crossed the mind of the field-cornet. 
It was not like an ordinary cloud, it was not like a 
cloud of dust, it was not like smoke. It was like 
nothing he had ever witnessed before. No wonder 
that he became anxious and apprehensive. 

All at once the dark-red mass seemed to envelop 
the cattle upon the plain, and these could be seen 
running to and fro as if affrighted. Then the two 
riders disappeared under its dun shadow ! 

Von Bloom rose to his feet, now seriously alarmed. 
What could it mean ? 

The exclamation to which he gave utterance 
brought little Triiey and Totty from the house ; and 
Hans with Jan had now got back with the sheep 
and goats All saw the singular phenomenon, but 


iuk kitAAL. 


15 


none of them could tell what it was. All were in a 
state of alarm. 

As they stood gazing, with hearts full of fear, the 
two riders appeared coming out of the cloud, and 
then they were seen to gallop forward over the plain 
in the direction of the house. They came on at full 
speed, but long before they had got near, the voice 
of Swartboy could be heard crying out — 

“ Baas Yon Bloom! da springaans are ccmtn I ~~ 
da springaan / — da springaan ! ” 


the srniNoriAN. 


13 


CHAPTER III. 

THE “ SPRINGHAAN.” 

** An! the springhaanl” cried Yon Bloom, recog 
nizing the Dutch name for the far-famed migratory 
locust. 

The mystery was explained. The singular cloud 
that was spreading itself over the plain was neither 
more nor less than a flight of locusts ! 

It was a sight that none of them, except Swart- 
boy, had ever witnessed before. His master had 
often seen locusts in small quantities, and of several 
species — for there are many kinds of these singular 
insects in South Africa. But that which now 
appeared was a true migratory locust ( Gryllus devas - 
tatorius ) ; and upon one of its great migrations — an 
event of rarer occurrence than travellers would have 
you believe. 

Swartboy knew them well ; and, although he an- 
nounced their approach in a state of great excite- 
ment, it was not the excitement of terror. 

Quite the contrary. His great thick lips were 
compressed athwart his face in a grotesque expres 
sion of joy. The instincts of his wild race were busy 
within him. To them a flight of locusts is not ar 
object of dread, but a source of rejoicing ; ther 


THE SPRINGHAAN. 


n 


coming as welcome as a take of shrimps to a Leigh 
fisherman, or harvest to the husbandman. 

The dogs, too, barked and howled with joy, and 
frisked about as if they were going out upon a hunt. 
On perceiving the cloud, their instinct enabled them 
easily to recognize the locusts. They regarded them 
with feelings similar to those that stirred Swartboy 
— for both dogs and Bushmen eat the insects with 
avidity I 

At the announcement that it was only locusts, all 
at OLce recovered from their alarm. Little Triiey 
and Jan laughed, clapped their hands, and waited 
with curiosity until they should come nearer. All 
nad heard enough of locusts to know that they were 
only grasshoppers, that neither bit nor stung any 
one ; and, therefore, no one was afraid of them. 

Even Yon Bloom himself was at first very little 
concerned about them. After his feelings of appre- 
hension, the announcement that it was a flight of 
locusts was a relief, and for a while he did not dwell 
upon the nature of such a phenomenon, but only 
regarded it with feelings of curiosity. 

Of a sudden his thoughts took a new direction. 
His eye rested upon his fields of maize and buck- 
wheat, upon his garden of melons, and fruits, and 
vegetables ; a new alarm seized upon him ; the 
memory of many stories which he had heard in rela- 
tion to these destructive creatures rushed into his 
mind, and, as the whole truth developed itself, he 
turned pale, and uttered new exclamations cf alarm. 

The children changed countenance as well They 
2 


8 


THE SPRINGHAAN. 


saw that their father suffered, though tney knew not 
why. They gathered inquiringly around him. 

“Alas! alas! Lost! lost!” exclaimed he; “yes, 
all our crop — our labor of the year — gone, gone J 
0, my dear children ! ” 

“ How lost, father ? how gone ? ” exclaimed sev- 
eral of them in a breath. 

“ See the springhaan ! they will eat up our crop — 
aU — all!” 

“ *T is true, indeed,” said Hans, who, being a 
great student, had often read accounts of the devas- 
tations committed by the locusts. 

The joyous countenances of all once more wore a 
sad expression, and it was no longer with curiosity 
that they gazed upon the distant cloud, that so sud- 
denly had clouded their joy. 

Yon Bloom had good cause for dread. Should the 
swarm come on, and settle upon his fields, farewell 
to his prospects of a harvest. They would strip the 
verdure from his whole farm in a twinkling. They 
would leave neither seed, nor leaf, nor stalk, behind 
them. 

All stood watching the flight with painful emotions. 
The swarm was still a full half-mile distant. They 
appeared to be coming no nearer — good ! 

A ray of hope entered the mind of the field-comet. 
He took off his broad felt hat, and held it up to the 
full stretch of his arm. The wind was blowing/rom 
the north, and the swarm was directly to the west of 
the kraal. The cloud of locusts had approached 
from the north, as they almost invariably do in the 
southern parts of Africa. 


THE SPRINGHAAN. 


19 


'* Yes,” said Hendrik, who, having been in theii 
midst, could tell whatwa^ they were drifting, “ thej 
came down upon us from a northerly direction. 
When we headed our horses homewards, we soon 
galloped out from them, and they did not appear to 
fly after us ; I am sure they were passing south- 
wards.” 

Yon Bloom entertained hopes that, as none 
appeared due north of the kraal, the swarm might 
pass on without extending to the borders of his farm. 
He knew that they usually followed the direction of 
the wind. Unless the wind changed, they would not 
swerve from their course. 

He continued to watch them anxiously. He saw 
that the selvidge of the cloud came no nearer. His 
hopes rose. His countenance grew brighter. The 
children noticed this and were glad, but said noth- 
ing. All stood silently watching. 

An odd sight it was. There was not only the 
misty swarm of the insects to gaze upon. The air 
above them was filled with birds ; strange birds, and 
of many kinds’ On slow, silent wing soared the 
brown “ oricou,” the largest of Africa’s vultures; 
and along with him the yellow “ chasse fiente,” the 
vulture of Kolbd. There swept the bearded “ lam- 
vanger,” on broad-extended wings. There shrieked 
the great “ Caffre eagle,” and, side by side with 
him, the short-tailed and singular “ bateleur.” 
There, too, were hawks of different sizes and colors, 
and kites cutting through the air, and ciows ana 
ravens, and many species of insecavora. But far 
more numerous than all the rest couid be seen tin? 


20 


THE SPRINGHAAN 


little springhaan-vogel, a speckled bird of nearly the 
size and form of a swallow. Myriads of these dark 
ened the air above ; hundreds of them continually 
shooting down among the insects, and soaring up 
again, each with a victim in its beak. “ Locust- 
vultures” are these creatures named, though not 
vultures in kind. They feed exclusively on these 
insects, and are never seen where the locusts are 
not. They follow them through all their migrations, 
building their nests and rearing their young in the 
midst of their prey I 

It was, indeed, a curious sight to look upon, that 
swarm of winged insects, and their numerous and 
varied enemies ; and all stood gazing upon it with 
feelings of wonder. Still the living cloud approached 
no nearer, and the hopes of Yon Bloom continued to 
rise. ' 

The swarm kept extending to the south ; in fact, 
it now stretched along the whole western horizon ; 
and all noticed that it was gradually getting lower 
down ; that is, its top edge was sinking in the 
heavens. Were the locusts passing off to the west ? 
No. 

“Da am goin roost for da nacht ; now we ’ll get 
’em in bagfull,” said Swartboy, with a pleased look ; 
for Swartboy was a regular locust-eater, as fond of 
them as either eagle or kite — ay, as the “ spring- 
haan-vogel ” itself. 

It was as Swartboy had stated. The swarm was 
actually settling down on the plain. 

“ Can’t fly without sun,” continued the Bushman 
" Too cold now. Dey go dead till da mornin.” 


THE SPRINGHA AN. 


2i 


And so it was. The sun had set The cool 
breeze weakened the wings of the insect-t.avellers ; 
and they were compelled to make halt for the night 
upon the trees, bushes, and grass. 

In a few minutes the dark mist that had hid the 
blue rim of the sky was seen no more ; but the 
distant plain looked as if a fire had swept over it. 
It was thickly covered with the bodies of the insects, 
that gave it a blackened appearance, as far as the 
eye could reach. 

The attendant birds, perceiving the approach of 
night, screamed for a while, and then scattered away 
through the heavens. Some perched upon the rocks, 
while others went to roost among the low thickets 
of mimosa ; and now for a short interval both earth 
and air were silent. 

Yon Bloom now bethought him of his cattle 
Their forms were seen afar off in the midst of the 
locust-covered plain. 

“ Let ’em feed um little while, baas,” suggested 
Swartboy. 

“ On what?” inquired his master. 11 Don’t you 
see the grass is covered 1 ” 

“ On de springhaan demself, baas,” replied tho 
Bushman ; “ good for fatten big ox, better dan 
grass ; ya, better dan mealies .” 

But it was too late to leave the cattle longer out 
upon the plain. The lions would soon be abroad ; 
the sooner because of the locusts, for the king of 
beasts does not disdain to fill his royal stomach with 
these insects — when he can find them. 


22 


THE SPRINGHAAN. 


Voia Bloom saw the necessity of bringing his cat 
tie at once to their kraal. 

A third horse was saddled, which the field-cornet 
himself mounted, and rode off, followed by Hendrik 
and Swartboy. 

On approaching the locusts they beheld a sin- 
gular sight. The ground was covered with these 
reddish-brown creatures, in some spots to the depth 
of several inches. What bushes there were were 
clustered with them ; all over the leaves and 
branches, as if swarms of bees had settled upon 
them. Not a leaf or blade of grass that was not 
covered with their bodies. 

They moved not, but remained silent, as if torpid 
or asleep. The cold of the evening had deprived 
them of the power of flight. 

What was strangest of all to the eyes of Von 
Bloom and Hendrik, was the conduct of their own 
horses and cattle. These were some distance out in 
the midst of the sleeping host ; but, instead of being 
alarmed at their odd situation, they were greedily 
gathering up the insects in mouthfuls, and crunch- 
ing them as though they had been com ! 

It was with some difficulty that they could be 
driven off ; but the roar of a lion, that was just then 
heard over the plain, and the repeated application 
of Swartboy’s jamboJc, rendered them more tractable, 
and at length they suffered themselves to be driven 
tome, and lodged within their kraals. 

Swartboy had provided himself with a bag, which 
be carried back full of locusts. 

It was observed that in collecting the insect* 


THE SPRINGHAAN. 


23 


into the bag he acted with some caution, handling 
them very gingerly, as if he was afraid of them. 
It was not them he feared, but snakes, which, upon 
such occasions, are very plenteous, and very much 
to be dreaded — as tbo Bushman, from experience, 
well knew. 


24 


A TALK ABOUT LOCUSTS 


CHAPTER IV. 

A TALK ABOUT IOCUSTS. 

I* was a night of anxiety in the kraal of the field 
soroet. Should the wind veer round to the west, to 
a certainty the locusts would cover his land in the 
morning, and the result would be the total destruc- 
tion of his crops. Perhaps worse than that. Per 
haps the whole vegetation around, for fifty miles or 
more, might be destroyed ; and then how would his 
cattle be fed ? It would be no easy matter even to 
save their lives. They might perish before he could 
drive them to any other pasturage. 

Such a thing was by no means uncommon or im- 
probable. In the history of the Cape colony many 
a boor had lost his flocks in this very way. No 
wonder there was anxiety that night in the kraal of 
the field-cornet. 

At intervals Von Bloom went out to ascertain 
whether there was any change in the wind. Up to 
a late hour he could perceive none. A gentle breeze 
still blew from the north, from the great Kalihari 
desert, whence, no doubt, the locusts had come. 
The moon was bright, and her light gleamed over 
the host of insects that darkly covered the plain. 
The roar of the lion could be heard mingling with 
the shrill scream of the jackal, and the maniac laugh 


A TALK ABOUT LOCUSIS, 


25 


of the hyena. All these beasts, and many more, 
were enjoying a plenteous repast. 

Perceiving no change in the wind, Von Bloom 
became less uneasy, and they all conversed freely 
about the locusts. Swartboy took a leading part in 
this conversation, as he was better acquainted with 
the subject than any of them. It was far from being 
the first flight of locusts Swartboy had seen, and 
many a bushel of them had he eaten. It was natural 
to suppose, therefore, that he knew a good deal 
about them. 

He knew not whence they came. That was a 
point about which Swartboy had never troubled 
himself. The learned Hans offered an explanation 
of their origin. 

“ They come from the desert,” said he. “ The 
eggs from which they are produced are deposited 
in the sands or dust ; where they lie until rain falls, 
and causes the herbage to spring up. Then the 
locusts are hatched, and in their first stage are sup 
ported upon this herbage. When it becomes ex- 
hausted, they are compelled to go in search of food. 
Hence these ‘ migrations/ as they are called.” 

Thi's explanation seemed clear enough. 

“ Now, I have heard,” said Hendrik, “of farmers 
kindling fires around their crops to keep off the 
locusts. I can't see how fires would keep them off ; 
not even if a regular fence of fire were made all 
round a field. These creatures have wings, and 
could easily fly over the fires.” 

“ The fires,” replied Hans, “ are kindled in ordei 
that the smoke may prevent them from alighting 


26 


A TALK ABOUT LOCUSTS. 


but the locusts to which these accounts usually role, 
are without wings, called voetgangers (foot-goers). 
They are, in fact, the larvae of these locusts, before 
they have obtained their wings. These have also 
their migrations, that are often more destructive than 
those of the perfect insects, such as we see here. 
They proceed over the ground by crawling and leap- 
ing like grasshoppers ; for, indeed, they are grass* 
hoppers — a species of them. They keep on in one 
direction, as if they were guided by instinct to follow 

•'articular course. Nothing can interrupt them in 
their onward march, unless the sea or some broad 
and rapid river. Small streams they can swim 
across ; and large ones, too, where they run slug- 
gishly ; walls and houses they can climb, even the 
chimneys, going straight over them ; and the mo- 
ment they have reached the other side of any obsta- 
cle, they continue straight onward in the old 
direction. 

“ In attempting to cross broad rapid rivers, they 
are drowned in countless myriads, and swept off to 
the sea. When it is only a small migration, the 
farmers sometimes keep them off by means of fires, 
as you have heard. On the contrary, when large 
numbers appear, even the fires are of no avail.” 

“ But how is that, brother?” inquired Hendrik. 
“ I can understand how fires would stop the kind 
you speak of, since you say they are without wings. 
But, since they are so, how do they get through the 
fires ? Jump them ? ” 

“ No, not so,” replied Hans “ The fires are built 
too wide and large for that.” 


A TALK ABOUT LOCUSTS. 2? 

"How then, brother ? ” asked Hendrik. " 1 m 
puzzled.” 

“ So am I,” said little Jan. 

u And I,” added Triiey. 

u Well, then,” continued Hans, “ millions of the 
insects crawl into the fires and put them out ! ” 

" no I ” cried all, in astonishment. “ How ? Are 
they not burned ? ” 

“ Of course,” replied Hans. " They are scorched 
and killed — myriads of them quite burned up. But 
their bodies crowded thickly on the fires choke them 
out. The foremost ranks of the great host thus be- 
come victims, and the others pass safely across upon 
the holocaust thus made. So you see even fires 
cannot stop the course of the locusts, when they are 
in great numbers. 

“ In many parts of Africa, where the natives cul- 
tivate the soil, as soon as they discover a migration 
of these insects, and perceive that they are heading 
in the direction of their fields and gardens, quite a 
panic is produced among them. They know that 
they will lose their crops to a certainty, and hence 
dread a visitation of locusts as they would an earth- 
quake, or some other great calamity.” 

“ We can well understand their feelings upon 
such an occasion,” remarked Hendrik, with a sig- 
nificant look. 

“ The flying locusts,” continued Hans, “ seem 
less to follow a particular direction than their larvse. 
The former seem to be guided by the wind. Fre- 
quently this carries them all into the sea, where 
they perish in vast numbers. On some parts of ib' 


A TALK ABOUT LOCUSTS 


coast their dead bodies have been found washed baci 
to land in quantities incredible. At one place the 
sea threw them upon the beach, until they lay piled 
up in a ridge four feet in height, and fifty miles in 
length ! It has been asserted by several well-known 
travellers that the effluvium from this mass tainted 
the air to such an extent that it was perceived one 
hundred and fifty miles inland.” 

tl Heigh ! ” exclaimed little Jan. “ I did n’t think 
anybody had so good a nose.” 

At little Jan’s remark there was a general laugh. 
Von Bloom did not join in their merriment. He was 
in too serious a mood just then. 

“ Papa,” inquired little Triiey, perceiving that 
her father did not laugh, and thinking to draw him 
into the conversation — “ Papa ! were these the kind 
of locusts eaten by John the Baptist when in the 
desert ? His food, the Bible says, was ‘ locusts and 
wild honey.’ ” 

“ I believe these are the same,” replied the father. 

“ I think, papa,” modestly rejoined Hans, “ they 
are not exactly the same, but a kindred species. The 
locust of Scripture was the true Gryllus migratorius , 
and different from those of South Africa, though very 
similar in its habits. But,” continued he, “ some 
writers dispute that point altogether. The Abys- 
sinians say it was beans of the locust-tree, and not 
bisects, that were the food of St. John.” 

' What is your own opinion, Hans ? ” inquired 
ndrik, who had a great belief in his brother’* 
oook-knowledgf . 

u Why, I think,” replied Hans, “ there need b« 


A TALK ABOUT LOCUSTS. 


2d 

no question about it. It is only torturing the mean 
mg of a woid to suppose that St. John ate the locust 
fruit, and not the insect I am decidedly of opinion 
that the latter is meant in Scripture ; and what 
makes me think so is, that these two kinds of food, 
* locusts and wild honey/ are often coupled together, 
as forming at the present time the subsistence of 
many tribes who are denizens of the desert. Be- 
sides, we have good evidence that both were used 
as food by desert-dwelling people in the days of 
Scripture. It is, therefore, but natural to suppose 
that St. John, when in the desert, was forced to 
partake of this food ; just as many a traveller of 
modern times has eaten of it when crossing the 
deserts that surround us here in South Africa. 

“ I have read a great many books about locusts,” 
continued Hans ; “ and now that the Bible has been 
mentioned, I must say, for my part, I know no ac- 
count given of these insects so truthful and beautiful 
as that in the Bible itself. Shall I read it, papa ? ” 

11 By all means, my boy,” said the field-cornet, 
rather pleased at the request which his son had 
made, and at the tenor of the conversation. 

Little Triiey ran into the inner room and brought 
out an immense volume bound in gemsbok skin, with 
a couple of strong brass clasps upon it to keep it 
closed. This was the family Bible ; and here let ice 
observe that a similar book may be found in the 
house of nearly every boor, for these Dutch colonists 
are a Protestant and Bible-loving people ; so much 
bo, that they think nothing of going a hundred miles, 
four times in the year, to attend the nacht-maal, 01 


30 


A TALK ABOUT LOCUSTS. 


sacramental supper. What do you think of 
that? 

Hans opened the volume, and turned at once to 
the book of the prophet Joel. From the readiness 
with which he found the passage, it was evident 
he was well acquainted with the book he held in his 
aands. 

He read as follows : 

“ A day of darkness and of gloominess, a day of 
clouds and of thick darkness, as the morning spread 
upon the mountains ; a great people and a strong : 
there hath not been ever the like, neither shall be 
any more after it, even to the years of many genera- 
tions. A fire devoureth before them, and behind 
them a flame burneth : the land is as the garden of 
Eden before them, and behind them a desolate wil- 
derness ; yea, and nothing shall escape them. The 
appearance of them is as the appearance of horses ; 
and as horsemen, so shall they run. Like the noise 
of chariots on the tops of mountains shall they leap, 
like the noise of a flame of fire that devoureth the 
stubble, as a strong people set in battle array.” 
“ The earth shall quake before them ; the heavens 
shall tremble ; the sun and the moon shall be dark, 
and the stars shall withdraw their shining.” “ How 
do the beasts groan ! the herds of cattle are per- 
plexed, because they have no pasture ; yea, the flocka 
of sheep are made desolate.” 

Even the rude Swartboy could perceive the poetio 
beauty of this description. 

But Swartboy had much to say about the locusts, 
as well as the inspired Joel. 


A TALK ABO JT LOCUSTS. 


31 


Thus spoke Swartboy : 

Bushman no fear da springhaan. Bushman hab 
no garden, no maize, no buckwheat, no nothing for 
da springhaan to eat. Bushman eat locust himself ; 
he grow fat on da locust. Ebery thing eat dem dar 
springhaan. Ebery thing grow fat in da locust sea- 
son. Ho ! den for dem springhaan! ” 

These remarks of Swartboy were true enough. 
The locusts are eaten by almost every species of 
animal known in South Africa. Not only do the 
carnivora greedily devour them, but also animals 
and birds of the game kind ; such as antelopes, par- 
tridges, guinea-fowls, bustards, and, strange to say, 
the giant of all, the huge elephant, will travel for 
miles to overtake a migration of locusts. Domestic 
fowls, sheep, horses, and dogs, devour them with 
equal greediness. Still another strange fact — the 
locusts eat one another ! If any one of them gets 
hurt, so as to impede his progress, the others imme- 
diately turn upon him and eat him up. 

The Bushmen and other native races of Africa 
submit the locusts to a process of cookery before 
eating them ; and during the whole evening Swart- 
boy had been engaged in preparing the bagful which 
he had collected. He 11 cooked ” them thus : 

He first boiled, or rather steamed them, for only a 
small quantity of water was put into the pot. This 
process lasted two hours. They were then taken 
out, and allowed to dry ; and after that shaken about 
in a pan, until all the legs and wings were broken 
off from the bodies. A winnowing process, Swart* 
boy’s thick lips acting as a fan, was next gone 


32 


A TALK ABOUT LOCUST3. 


through; and the legs and wings were thus got rid 
of. The locusts were then read^ for eating. 

A little salt only was required to render them 
more palatable, when all present made trial of, and 
some of the children even liked them. By many, 
locusts prepared in this way are considered quite 
equal to shrimps. 

Sometimes they are pounded when quite dry into 
a sort of meal, and, with water added to them, are 
made into a kind of stirabout. 

When well dried, they will keep for a long time ; 
and they frequently form the only store of food 
which the poorer natives have to depend upon for a 
whole season. 

Among many tribes, particularly among those who 
are not agricultural, the coming of the locusts is a 
source of rejoicing. These people turn out with 
sacks, and often with pack-oxen, to collect and bring 
them to their villages ; and on such occasions vast 
neaps of them are accumulated and stored, in the 
same way as grain. 

Conversing of these things the night passed on 
until it was time for going to bed. The field-cornet 
went out once again to observe the wind ; and then 
the door of the little kraal was closed, and the family 
retired to rest. 


TH1 LOCUST-FLIGHT. 


38 


CHAPTER V. 

THE LOCUST-FLIGHT. 

Tie field-cornet slept but little. Anxiety kept 
him awake. He turned and tossed, and thought of 
the locusts. He napped at intervals, and dreamt 
about locusts, and crickets, and grasshoppers, and 
all manner of great long-legged, goggle-eyed insects. 
He was glad when the first ray of light penetrated 
through the little window of his chamber. 

He sprang to his feet, and, scarce staying to 
dress himself, rushed out into the open air. It was 
still dark, but he did not require to see the wind. 
He did not need to toss a feather or hold up his hat. 
The truth was too plain. A strong breeze was blow- 
ing — it was blowing/rom the west! 

Half distracted, he ran further out to assure him- 
self. He ran until clear of the walls that enclosed 
the kraals and garden. 

He halted and felt the air. Alas ! his first impres- 
sion was correct. The breeze blew directly from 
the west — directly from the locusts. He could per- 
ceive the effluvium borne from the hateful insects ; 
there was no longer cause to doubt. 

Groaning in spirit, Yon Bloom returned to his 
house. He had no longer any hope of escaping- the 
terrible visitation. 

3 


34 


THE LOCUST-FLIGHT. 


His first directions were to collect all the loose 
pieces of linen or clothing in the house, and pack 
them within the family chests. What ! would the 
locusts be likely to eat them ? 

Indeed, yes — for these \ oracious creatures are not 
fastidious. No particular vegetable seems to be 
chosen by them. The leaves of the bitter tobacco- 
plant appear to be as much to their liking as the sweet 
and succulent blades of maize. Pieces of linen, cot- 
ton, and even flannel, are devoured by them, as though 
they were the tender shoots of plants. Stones, iron, 
and hard wood, are about the only objects that escape 
their fierce masticators. 

Von Bloom had heard this, Hans had read of it, 
and Swartboy confirmed it from his own experience. 

Consequently, everything that was at all destruct- 
ible was carefully stowed away ; and then breakfast 
was cooked and eaten in silence. 

There was a gloom over the faces of all, because he 
who was the head of all was silent and dejected. 
What a change within a few hours ! But the evening 
before the field-cornet and his little family were in 
the full enjoyment of happiness. 

There was still one hope, though a slight one. 
Might it yet rain? Or might the day turn out 
cold ? 

In either case Swartboy said the k ousts could not 
take wing — for they cannot fly in cold or rainy 
weather. In the event of a cold or wet day they 
would have to remain as they were, and perhaps the 
wind might change round again before they resumed 


THE LOCUST-FLIGHT. 


35 


their flight 0, for a torrent of rain, or a cold, cloudy 
day! 

Vain wish ! vain hope ! In half an hour after, the 
sun rose up in African splendor, and his hot rays, 
slanting down upon the sleeping host, warmed them 
into life and activity They commenced to crawl, to 
hop about, and then, as if by one impulse, myriads 
rose into the air. The breeze impelled them in the 
direction in which it was blowing, — in the direction 
of the devoted maize-fields. 

In less than five minutes from the time they had 
taken wing, they were over the kraal, and dropping 
in tens of thousands upon the surrounding fields. 
Slow was their flight, and gentle their descent, and 
to the eyes of those beneath they presented the 
appearance of a shower of black snow, falling in 
large feathery flakes. In a few moments the ground 
was completely covered, until every stalk of maize, 
every plant and bush, carried its hundreds. On 
the outer plains, too, as far as eye could see, the 
pasture was strewed thickly ; and as the great flight 
had now passed to the eastward of the house, 
the sun’s disk was again hidden b> them, as if by an 
eclipse ! 

They seemed to move in a kind of echellon, the 
bands in the rear constantly flying to the front, and 
then halting to feed, until in turn these were headed 
by others that had advanced over them in a similar 
manner. 

The noise produced by their wings was not the 
least curious phenomenon, and resembled a steady 


36 


THE LOCUST-FLIGHT . 


breeze playing among the leaves of the forest, or th« 
sound of a water-wheel. 

For two hours this passage continued. During 
most of that time Von Bloom and his people had 
remained within the house, with closed doors and 
windows. This they did to avoid the unpleasant 
shower, as the creatures, impelled by the breeze, 
often strike the cheek so forcibly as to cause a feeling 
of pain. Moreover, they did not like treading upon 
the unwelcome intruders, and crushing them under 
their feet, which they must have done, had they 
moved about outside, where the ground was thickly 
covered. 

Many of the insects even crawled inside, through 
the chinks of the door and windows, and greedily 
devoured any vegetable substance which happened 
to be lying about the floor. 

At the end of two hours Von Bloom looked forth. 
The thickest of the flight had passed. The sun was 
again shining ; but upon what was he shining ? No 
longer upon green fields and a flowery garden. No. 
Around the house, on every side, north, south, east, 
and west, the eye rested only on black desolation. 
Not a blade of grass, not a leaf, could be seen — even 
the very bark was stripped from the trees, that now 
stood as if withered by the hand of God ! Had fire 
swept the surface, it could not have left it more 
naked and desolate. There was no garden, there 
were no fields of maize or buckwheat, there was no 
longer a farm — the kraal stood in the midst of a 
desert ! 

Words cannot depict the emotions of the field- 


THE LOCUST-FLIGHT. 


37 


comet at that moment. The pen cannot describe his 
painful feelings. 

Such a change in two hours I He could scarce 
credit his senses — he could scarce believe in its 
reality. He knew that the locusts would eat up his 
maize, and his wheat, and the vegetables of his 
garden ; but nis fancy had fallen far short of the 
extreme desolation that had actually been produced. 
The whole landscape was metamorphosed ; grass 
was out of the question — trees, whose delicate 
foliage had played in the soft breeze but two short 
hours before, now stood leafless, scathed by worse 
than winter. The very ground seemed altered in 
shape. He would not have known it as his own 
farm. Most certainly, had the owner been absent 
during the period of the locust-flight, and approached 
without any information of what had been passing, 
he would not have recognized the place of his own 
habitation ! 

With the phlegm peculiar to his race, the field- 
jornet sat down, and remained for a long time with- 
out speech or movement. 

His children gathered near, and looked on, their 
young hearts painfully throbbing. They could not 
fully appreciate the difficult circumstances in which 
this occurrence had placed them ; nor did their 
father himself, at first. He thought only of the loss 
he had sustained, in the destruction of his fine crops : 
and this of itself, when we consider his isolated situa- 
tion, and the hopelessness of restoring them, was 
enough to cause him very great chagrin. 

“ Gone ! all gone ! ” he exclaimed, in a sorrowing 
c 


THE LOCUST-FLIGHT. 


58 

voice. “0! Fortune — Fortune — again art thou 
cruel ! ” 

Papa, do not grieve ! ” said a soft voice ; “we 
are all alive yet, we are here by your side ; ” and 
with the words a little white hand was laid upon 
his shoulder. It was the hand of the beautiful 
Truey. 

It seemed as if an angel had smiled upon him. 
Ele lifted the child in his arms, and in a paroxysm 
of fondness pressed her to his heart. That heart felt 
relieved. 

“ Bring me the Book,” said he, addre*a ; ng one of 
the boys. 

The Bible was brought, its massive covers were 
opened, a verse was chosen, and the song of praise 
rose up in the midst of the desert. 

The Book was closed, and for some minutes all 
knelt in prayer. 

When Yon Bloom again stood upon his feet, and 
looked around him, the desert seemed once more to 
“ rejoice and blossom as the rose.” 

Upon the human heart such is the magic influence 
of resignation and humility 


INSPAN If AND TREK I 


M 


8V 


CHAPTER VI. 

** INSPANN AND TREK ! ” 

With all his confidence in the protection of a Su- 
preme Being, Von Bloom knew that he was not to 
leave everything to the Divine hand. That was 
not the religion he had been taught; and he at 
once set about taking measures to extricate himself 
from the unpleasant position in which he was placed. 

Unpleasant position ! Ha I It was more than un- 
pleasant, as the field-cornet began to perceive. It 
was a position of peril ! 

The more Von Bloom reflected, the more was he 
convinced of this. There they were, in the middle 
of a black naked plain, that without a green spot 
extended beyond the limits of vision. How much 
further he could not guess ; but he knew that the de- 
vastations of the migratory locust sometimes cover 
an area of thousands of miles. It was certain that 
the one that had just swept past was on a veiy ex- 
tensive scale. 

It was evident he could no longer remain by nis 
kraal. His horses, and cattle, and sheep, could not 
live without food ; and should these perish, upon what 
were he and his family to subsist ? He must leave 
the kraal. He must go in search of pasture, without 
loss of time,- at once. Already the animals, shut 


40 


“ INSPANN AND TREK ! ” 


up bejona their usual hour, were uttering their varied 
cries, impatient to be let out. They would soon 
hunger ; and it was hard to say when food could be 
procured for them. 

There was no time to be lost. Every hour was of 
great importance, — even minutes must not be wasted 
in dubious hesitation. 

The field-cornet spent but a few minutes in consid- 
eration. Whether should he mount one of his best 
horses, and ride off alone in search of pasture ? or 
whether would it not be better to “ inspann ” his 
wagon, and take everything along with him at 
once ? 

He soon decided in favov of the latter course. In 
any case he would have been compelled to move 
from his present location, — to leave the kraal alto- 
gether. 

He might as well take everything at once. Should 
he go out alone, it might cost him a long time to find 
grass and water, — for both would be necessary, — 
and, meantime, his stock would be suffering. 

These and other considerations decided him at once 
to “inspann” and “trek” away, with his wagon, 
his horses, his cattle, his sheep, his “ household 
gods,” and his whole family circle. 

“ Inspann and trek ! ” was the command ; and 
Swartboy, who was proud of the reputation he had 
earned as a wagon-driver, was now seen waving his 
bamboo whip like a great fishing-rod. 

“ Inspann and trek ! ” echoed Swartboy, tying 
apon his twenty-feet lash a new cracker, which 


41 


“iNSPANff AND TREK!” 

he had twisted out of the skin of the hartebeest 
antelope. 

“ Inspann and trek!” he repeated, making his 
vast whip crack like a pistol; “yes, baas, I ; 11 in- 
spann ; ” and, having satisfied himself that his 
“ voorslag” was properly adjusted, Swartboy rested 
the bamboo handle against the side of the house, 
and proceeded to the kraal to collect the yoke-oxen. 

A large wagon, of a sort that is the pride and 
property of every Cape farmer, stood to one side of 
the house. It was a vehicle of the first class, — a 
regular “ cap-tent” wagon, — that had been made for 
the field-cornet in his better days, and in which he 
nad been used to drive his wife and children to the 
u nachtmaal,” and upon vrolykheids (parties of pleas- 
ure.) In those days a team of eight fine horses used 
to draw it along at a rattling rate. Alas ! oxen had 
now to take their place ; for Von Bloom had but five 
horses in his whole stud, and these were required for 
the saddle. 

But the wagon was almost as good as ever it had 
been, — almost as good as when it used to be the 
envy of the field-cornet’s neighbors, the boors of 
Graaf Reinet. Nothing was broken. Every thing 
was in its place, — “voor-kist,” and “ achter-kist,” 
and side-chests. There was the snow-white cap, with 
its “fore-clap” and “after-clap,” and its inside 
pockets, all complete ; and the wheels neatly carved, 
and the well-planed boxing and “ disselboom,” and 
the strong “ trektow ” of buffalo-hide. Nothing 
was wanting that ought to be found about a wagon. 
It was, in fact, the best part of the field cornet’s 


*2 


“iNSPANN AND TREK! 


n 


property that remained to him, — for it was equal iu 
value to all the oxen, cattle, and sheep, upon his 
establishment. 

While Swartboy, assisted by Hendrik, was catch* 
ing up the twelve yoke-oxen, and attaching them to 
the disselboom and trektow of the wagon, the “ baas ” 
himself, aided by Hans, Totty, and also by Triiey 
and little Jan, was loading up the furnituie and 
implements. This was not a difficult task. The 
Penates of the little kraal were not numerous, and 
were all soon packed either inside or around the 
roomy vehicle. 

In about an hour’s time the wagon was loaded up, 
the oxen were inspanned, the horses saddled, and 
everything was ready for “ trekking.” 

And now arose the question, whither ? 

Up to this time Yon Bloom had only thought of 
getting away from the spot — of escaping beyond the 
naked waste that surrounded him. 

/ 

It now became necessary to determine the direc- 
tion in which they were to travel — a most important 
consideration. 

Important, indeed, as a little reflection showed. 
They might go in the direction in which the locusts 
had gone, or that in which they had come ! On either 
route they might travel for scores of miles without 
meeting with a mouthful of grass for the hungry 
animals ; and in such a case these would break down 
and perish. 

Or the travellers might move in some other direc- 
tion, and find grass, but not water. Without 
water, net only would they have to fear for the cat- 


INSPANN AND TREK 


43 


c# 


J1 


He, but for themselves — for their own lives. How 
important then it was, which way they turned their 
faces ! 

At first the field-cornet bethought him of heading 
towards the settlements. The nearest water in that 
direction was almost fifty miles off. It lay4o the 
eastward of the kraal. The locusts had just gone 
that way. They would by this time have laid waste 
the whole country — -perhaps to the water or beyond 
it! 

It would be a great risk going in that direction. 

Northward lay the Kalihari desert It would be 
hopeless to steer north. Von Bloom knew of no 
oasis in the desert. Besides, the locusts had come 
from the north. They were drifting southward 
when first seen ; and, from the time they had been 
observed passing in this last direction, they had 
no doubt ere this wasted the plains far to the south 

The thoughts of the field-cornet were now turned 
to the west. It is true the swarm had last approached 
from the west ; but Von Bloom fancied that they had 
first come down from the north, and that the sudden 
veering round of the wind had caused them to change 
direction. He thought that by trekking westward 
he would soon get beyond the ground they had laid 
bare. 

He knew something of the plains to the west — not 
much, indeed, but he knew that at about forty miles 
distance there was a spring with good pasturage 
around it, upon whose water he could depend. He 
had once visited it, while on a search for some of his 
cattle, that had wandered thus far. Indeed, it then 


u 


il INSPANN AND TREK! 


ff 


appeared to him a better situation for cattle than the 
one he held, and he had often thought of moving to it 
Its great distance from any civilized settlement was 
the reason why he had not done so. Although he 

as already far beyond the frontier, he still kept up 
a sort of communication with the settlements, whereas 
at the more distant point such a communication would 
be extremely difficult. 

Now that other considerations weighed with him, 
his thoughts once more returned to this spring ; and 
after spending a few minutes more in earnest deliber- 
ation, he decided upon “trekking” westward. 

Swartboy was ordered to head round, and strike 
to the west. The Bushman promptly leaped to his 
seat upon the voor-kist, cracked his mighty whip, 
straightened out his long team, and moved off ovei 
the plain. 

Hans and Hendrik were already in their saddles ; 
<*nd having cleared the kraals of all their live stock, 
**uth the assistance of the dogs, drove the lowing and 
Seating animals before them. 

Triiey and little Jan sat beside Swartboy on the 
fore-chest of the wagon ; and the round fuii eyes of 
the pretty springbok could be seen peeping curiously 
out from under the cap-tent. 

Casting a last look upon his desoiat" Vraai, th* 
field-cornet turned his horse’s head, an . 1 t 

the wagon. 


"WATER! WATER 


4ft 


n 


CHAPTER VII. 

41 WATER ! WATER!” 

On moved the little caravan, but not in silence. 
Swartboy's voice and whip made an almost continual 
noise. The latter could be plainly heard more than 
a mile over the plain, like repeated discharges of a 
musket. Hendrik, too, did a goc d deal in the way 
of shouting; and even the usual .y quiet Hans was 
under the necessity of using his voice to urge the 
flock forward in the right direction. 

Occasionally both the boys were called upon to 
give Swartboy a help with the leading oxen when 
these became obstinate or restive, and would turn 
out of the track. At such times either Hans or 
Hendrik would gallop up, set the heads of the ani* 
mals right again, and ply the “jamboks” upon their 
sides. 

This “jambok” is a severe chastener to an obsti- 
nate ox. It is an elastic whip made of rhinoceros 
or hippopotamus skin, — hippopotamus is the best, — 
near six feet long, and tapering regularly from butt 
to tip. 

Whenever the led oxen misbehaved, and Swart* 
boy could not reach them with his long “voorslag,” 
Hendrik was ever ready to tickle them with his 
tough jambok ; and, by this means, frighten them 

D 




“WATER! WATER * f 


into good behavior. Indeed, one of the boys was 
obliged to be at their head nearly all the time. 

A “leader” is used to accompany most teams of 
oxen in South Africa. But those of the field-cornet 
had been accustomed to draw the wagon without one, 
ever since the Hottentot servants ran away ; and 
Swartboy had driven many miles with no other help 
than his long whip. But the strange look of every 
thing, since the locusts passed, had made the oxen 
shy and wild ; besides, the insects had obliterated 
every track or path which oxen would have fob 
lowed. The whole surface was alike, — there was 
neither trace nor mark. Even Von Bloom himself 
could with difficulty recognize the features of the 
country, and had to guide himself by the sun in the 
sky. 

Hendrik stayed mostly by the head of the lead- 
ing oxen. Hans had no difficulty in driving the 
flock when once fairly started. A sense of fear 
kept all together, and as there was no herbage upon 
any side to tempt them to stray, they moved regu- 
larly on. 

Von Bloom rode in front to guide the caravan. 
Neither he nor any of them had made any change in 
their costume, but travelled in their every-day dress. 
The field-cornet himself was habited after the manner 
of most boors,— in wide leathern trousers, termed in 
that country “crackers;” a large roomy jacket of 
green cloth, with ample outside pockets ; a fawn-skin 
waistcoat ; a huge white felt hat, with the broadest 
of brims ; and upon his feet a pair of brogans of Afri- 
can unstained leather, known among the boors as 


“WATER! WATER I'' 


41 


“ feldt-schoenen ” (country shoes). Ovet his saddle 
lay a “ kaross,” or robe of leopard-skins ; and upon 
his shoulder he carried his “ roer,” — a large 
smooth-bore gun, about six feet in length, with ai 
old-fashioned flint-lock, — quite a load of itself. This 
is the gun in which the boor puts all his trust ; and 
although an American backwoodsman would at Aral 
sight be disposed to laugh at such a weapon, a little 
knowledge of the boor’s country would change his 
opinion of the “roer.” His own weapon — the 
small-bore rifle, with a bullet less than a pea — would 
be almost useless among the large game that inhab- 
its the country of the boor. Upon the “karoos ” of 
Africa there are crack shots and sterling hunters, as 
well as in the backwoods or on the prairies of 
America. 

Curving round under the field-cornet’s left arm, 
and resting against his side, was an immense pow- 
der-horn — of such size as could only be produced 
upon the head of an African ox. It was from the 
country of the Bechuanas, though nearly all Cape 
oxen grow horns of vast dimensions. Of course it 
was used to carry the field-cornet’s powder, and, if 
full, it must have contained half a dozen pounds, at 
least. A leopard-skin pouch hanging under his right 
arm, a hunting-knife stuck in his waist-belt, and a 
large meerschaum pipe through the band of hip 
hat, completed the equipments of the trek-boor, Yon 
Bloom. 

Hans and Hendrik were very similarly attired, 
armed, and equipped. Of course their trousers were 
vf dressed sheep-skin, wide, — like the trousers of all 


18 


WATER ! WATER ! 


t i 


yy 


young boors, — and they also wore jackets and “ feldt 
schoenen,” and broad-brimmed white hats. Hans 
carried a light fowling-piece, while Hendrik’s gun 
was a stout rifle of the kind known as a “yager” — 
an excellent gun for large game. In this piece 
Hendrik had great pride, and had learnt to drive a 
nail with it at nearly a hundred paces Hendrik was 
par excellence the marksman of the party. Each of 
the boys also carried a large crescent-shaped powder- 
horn, with a pouch for bullets ; and over the saddle 
of each was strapped the robe or kaross, differing 
only from their father’s in that his was of the rarer 
leopard-skin, while theirs were a commoner sort, one 
of antelope, and the other of jackal-skin. Little Jan 
also wore wide trousers, jacket, “ feldt-shoenen,” 
and broad-brimmed beaver ; in fact, Jan, although 
scarce a yard high, was, in point of costume, a type of 
his father, — a diminutive type of the boor. Triiey was 
habited in a skirt of blue woollen stuff, with a neat 
bodice elaborately stitched and embroidered after 
the Dutch fashion, and over her fair locks she wore 
a light sun-hat of straw with a ribbon and strings. 
Totty was very plainly attired in strong homespun, 
without any head-dress. As for Swartboy, a pair of 
old leathern “ crackers ” and a striped shirt were all 
the clothing he carried, beside his sheep-skin kaross. 
Such were the costumes of our travellers. 

For full twenty miles the plain was wasted bare. 
Not a bite could the beasts obtain, and water there 
was none. The sun during the day shone brightly, 
— too brightly, for his beams were as hot as within 
the tropics. The travellers could scarce have bom© 


WATER! HATER! 


49 


11 

them had it not been that a stiff breeze was blowing 
all day long. But this unfortunately blew directly 
in their faces, and the dry karoos are never without 
dust. The constant hopping of the locusts with their 
millions of tiny feet had loosened the crust of earth ; 
and now the dust rose freely upon the wind. Clouds 
of it enveloped the little caravan, and rendered their 
forward movement both difficult and disagreeable 
Long before night their clothes were covered, their 
mouths filled, and their eyes sore. 

But all that was nothing. Long before night a far 
greater grievance was felt, — the want of water. 

In their hurry to escape from the desolate scene at 
the kraal, Von Bloom had not thought of bringing a 
supply in the wagon — a sad oversight in a country 
like South Africa, where springs are so rare, and run- 
ning streams so uncertain. A sad oversight indeed, 
as they now learnt ; for long before night they were 
all crying out for water, all were equally suffering 
from the pangs of thirst. 

Von Bloom thirsted, but he did not think of him 
self, except that he suffered from self-accusation. 
He blamed himself for neglecting to bring a needful 
supply of water. He was the cause of the sufferings 
of all the rest. He felt sad and humbled on account 
of his thoughtless negligence. 

He could promise them no relief — at least, none 
until they should reach the spring. He knew : f no 
water nearer. 

It w^-uld be impossible to reach the spring that 
night. It was late when they started. Oxen travel 
4 


50 


“water! water! 


v 


Blowly. Half the distance would be as much as the} 
could make by sundown. 

To reach the water they would have to travel all 
night ; but they could not do that, for many reasons 
The oxen wouM require to res! — the more so that 
they were hungered ; and now Yon Bloom thought, 
when too late, of another neglect he had committed 
— that was, in not collecting, during the flight of the 
locusts, a sufficient quantity of them to have given 
his cattle a feed. 

This plan is often adopted under similar circum- 
stances ; but the field-cornet had not thought of it ; 
and as but few locusts fell in the kraals where the 
animals had been confined, they had therefore been 
without food since the previous day. The oxen, in 
particular, showed symptoms of weakness, and drew 
the wagon sluggishly ; so that Swartboy’s voice and 
long whip were kept in constant action. 

But there were other reasons why they would 
have to halt when night came on. The field-cornet 
was not so sure of the direction. He would not be 
able to follow it by night, as there was not the 
semblance of a track to guide him. Besides, it 
would be dangerous to travel by night, for then the 
nocturnal robber of Africa — the fierce lion — is 
abroad. 

They would be under the necessity, therefore, of 
halting for the night, water or no water. 

It wanted yet half an hour of sundown when Yon 
Bloom had arrived at this decision. He only kept 
on a little further, in hopes of reaching a spot where 
there was grass. They were now more than twenty 


tl WATER ! WATER ! ” 


51 


miles from their starting-point, and still the Hack 
“ spoor ” of the locusts covered the plain. Still no 
grass to be seen : still the bushes bare of their leaves, 
and barked ! 

The field-cornet began to think that he was trekking 
right in the way the locusts had come. Westward 
he was heading, for certain ; he knew that. But he 
was not yet certain that the flight had not advanced 
from the west, instead of the north. If so, they 
might go for days before coming upon a patch of 
grass. 

These thoughts troubled him, and with anxious 
eyes he swept the. plain in front, as well as to the 
right and left. 

A shout from the keen-eyed Bushman produced a 
joyful effect. He saw grass in front. He saw some 
bushes with leaves. They were still a mile off, but 
the oxen, as if the announcement had been under- 
stood by them, moved more briskly forward. 

Another mile passed over, and they came upon 
grass, sure enough. It was a very scanty pasture, 
though, — a few scattered blades growing over the 
reddish surface, but in no place a mouthful for an ox. 
There was just enough to tantalize the poor brutes, 
without filling their stomachs. It assured Yon Bloom, 
nowever, that they had now got beyond the track of 
the locusts ; and he kept on a little further, in hopes 
that the pasture might get better. 

It did not, however. The country through which 
they advanced was a wild, sterile pl&in, almost as 
destitute of vegetation as that over which they had 
hitherto be-en travelling. It no longer owed its 


52 


WATER !’ WATER 




ft 


nakedness id the Ocusts, but to the absence of 
water. 

They had no more time to search for pasture. The 
sun was already below the horizon when they halted 
to “ outspann.” 

A “kraal” should have been built for the cattle, 
and another for the sheep and goats. There were 
bushes enough to have constructed them, but who 
of that tired party had the heart to cut them down 
and drag them to the spot ? 

It was labor enough — the slaughtering a sheep 
for supper, and collecting sufficient wood to cook it. 
No kraal was made. The horses were tied around 
the wagon. The oxen, cattle, and sheep and goats, 
were left free to go where they pleased. As there 
was no pasture near to tempt them, it was hoped that, 
after the fatigue of their long journey, they would not 
stray far from the camp-fire, which was kept burning 
throughout the night. 


THE PATE OF THE HERD. 


53 


CHAPTER VIII. 

THE FATE OF THE HERD. 

But they did stray. 

When day broke, and the travellers looked around 
them, not a head of the oxen or cattle was to be seen 
Yes, there was one, and one only — the milch-cow. 
Totty, after milking her on the previous night, had 
left her tied to a bush, where she still remained. 
All the rest were gone, and the sheep and goats as 
well. 

Whither had they strayed ? 

The horses were mounted, and search was made. 
The sheep and goats were found among some bushes 
not far off; but it soon appeared that the other 
animals had gone clean away. 

Their spoor was traced for a mile or two. It led 
back on the very track they had come ; and no doubt 
any longer existed that they had returned to the 
kraal. 

To overtake them before reaching that point, 
would be difficult, if at all possible. Their tracks 
showed that they had gone off early in the night, 
and had travelled at a rapid rate — so that by this 
time they had most likely arrived at their old home. 

This was a sad discovery. To have followed 
them on the thirsting and hungry horses would 


54 


THE FATE OF THE HERD. 


ha vo been a useless work ; yet without the yofce- 
oxen how was the wagon to be taken forward to the 
spring ? 

It appeared to be a sad dilemma they were in ; but 
after a short consultation the thoughtful Hans sug- 
gested a solution of it. 

“ Can we not attach the horses to the wagon ? ” 
inquired he. “The five could surely draw it on to 
the spring.” 

“ What ! and leave the cattle behind ? ” said Hen- 
drik. “If we do not go after them, they will be all 
lost, and then ” 

“We could go for them afterwards,” replied Hans ; 
“but is it not better first to push forward to the 
spring, and, after resting the horses a while, return 
then for the oxen ? They will have reached the 
kraal by this time. There they will be sure of water, 
anyhow, and that will keep them alive till we get 
there.” 

The course suggested by Hans seemed feasible 
enough. At all events, it was the best plan they 
could pursue ; so they at once set about putting it in 
execution. The horses were attached to the wagon 
in the best way they could think of. Fortunately 
some old horse-harness formed part of the contents 
of the vehicle, and these were brought out and fitted 
on, as well as could be done. 

Two horses were made fast to the disselboom as 
ft wheelers ; ” two others to the trektow cut to the 
proper length ; and the fifth horse was placed in front 
as a leader. 

When all was ready, Swartboy again mounted the 


THE FATE OF THE HERD. 


5S 


eoor-kist, gathered up his reins, cracked his whip, 
aad set his team in motion. To the delight of every 
one, the huge heavy-laden wagon moved off as freely 
as if a full team had been inspanned. 

Yon Bloom, Hendrik, and Hans, cheered as it 
passed them, and, setting the milch-cow and the 
flock of sheep and goats in motion, moved briskly 
after. Little Jan and Triiey still rode in the wagon ; 
but the others now travelled a-foot, partly because 
they had the flock to drive, and partly that they might 
not increase the load upon the horses. 

They all suffered greatly from thirst, but they 
would have suffered still more had it not been for 
that valuable creature that trotted along behind the 
wagon — the cow — “old Graaf,” as she was called. 
She had yielded several pints of milkj both the night 
before and that morning ; and this well-timed supply 
had given considerable relief to the travellers 

The horses behaved beautifully. Notwithstanding 
that their harness was both incomplete and ill fitted, 
they pulled the wagon along after them as if not a 
strap or buckle had been wanting. They appeared 
to know that their kind master was in a dilemma, 
and were determined to draw him out of it. Perhaps, 
too, they smelt the spring- water before them. At all 
events, before they had been many hours in harness, 
they were drawing the wagon through a pretty little 
valley covered with green, meadow-looking sward ; 
and in five minutes more were standing halted near 
a cool crystal spring. 

In a short time all had drunk heartily, and were 
refreshed. The horses were turned out upon the 


50 


THE FATE OF THE HERD. 


grass, and the other animals browsed over the 
meadow. A good fire was made near the spring, arid 
a quarter of mutton cooked, — upon which the travel- 
lers dined, and tnen all sat waiting for the horses 
to fill themselves. 

The field-cornet, seated upon one of the wagon- 
chests, smoked his great pipe. He could have been 
contented, but for one thing — the absence of his 
cattle 

He had arrived at a beautiful pasture-ground — a 
sort of oasis in the wild plains, where there were 
wood, water, and grass, — everything that the heart 
of a “ vee-boor ” could desire. It did not appear to 
be a large tract, but enough to have sustained many 
hundred head of cattle — enough for a very fine 
41 stock farm.” It would have answered his purpose 
admirably ; and had he succeeded in bringing on his 
oxen and cattle, he would at that moment have felt 
happy enough. But without them what availed the 
fine pasturage ? What could he do there without 
them to stock it ? They were his wealth — at least, 
he had hoped in time that their increase would be- 
come wealth. They were all of excellent breeds ; 
and, with the exception of his twelve yoke-oxen, and 
one or two long-horned Bechuana bulls, all the otheis 
were fine young cows, calculated soon to produce a 
large herd. 

Of course his anxiety about these animals rendered 
it impossible for him to enjoy a moment’s peace of 
mind, until he should start back in search of them. 
He had only taken out his pipe to pass the time, 
while the horses were gathering a bite of grass Ai 


THE FATE OF THE HERD. 


51 


«c-on as their strength should be recruited a little, it 
was his design to take three of the strongest of them, 
and with Hendrik and Swartboy ride back to the old 
kraal. 

As soon, therefore, as the horses were ready for 
the road again, they were caught and saddled up ; 
and Von Bloom, Hendrik, and Swartboy, mounted 
and set out, while Hans remained in charge of the 
camp. 

They rode at a brisk rate, determined to travel all 
aight, and, if possible, reach the kraal before morn- 
ing. At the last point on the route where there was 
grass, they off-saddled, and allowed their horses to 
rest and refresh themselves. They had brought with 
them some slices of the roast mutton, and this time 
they had not forgotten to fill their gourd-canteens 
with water, so that they should not again suffer 
from thirst. After an hour’s halt they continued 
their journey. 

It was quite night when they arrived at the spot • 
where the oxen had deserted them ; but a clear moon 
was in the sky, and they were able to follow back 
the wheel-tracks of the wagon, that were quite con- 
spicuous under the moonlight. Now and then, to be 
satisfied, Von Bloom requested Swartboy to examine 
the spoor, and see whether the cattle had still kept 
the back-tra» k. To answer this gave no great 
trouble to the Bushman. He would drop from his 
horse, and, bending over the ground, would reply in 
an instant. In every case the answer was in the 
affirmative. The animals had certainly gone back t# 
theJr old home. 


58 


THE FATE OF THE HERD. 


Yon Bloom believed they would be sure tc find 
them there — but should they find them alive ? That 
was the question that rendered him anxious. 

The creatures could obtain water by the spring, 
but food — where ? Not a bite would they find any- 
where, and would not hunger have destroyed them 
all before this ? 

Day was breaking when they came in sight of the 
old homestead. It presented a very odd appearance 
Not one of the three would have recognized it. 
After the invasion of the locusts it showed a very 
altered look, but now there was something else that 
added to the singularity of its appearance. A row 
of strange objects seemed to be placed upon the roof 
ridge, and along the walls of the kraals. What were 
these strange objects, for they certainly did not 
belong to the buildings ? This question was put by 
Von Bloom, partly to himself, but loud enough for 
the others to hear him. 

“ Da vogels 1 ” (the vultures), replied Swartboy. 

Sure enough, it was a string .of vultures that 
appeared along the walls. 

The sight of these filthy birds was more than 
ominous. It filled Yon Bloom with apprehension. 
WTiat could they be doing there ? There must be 
carrion near ? 

The party rode forward. The day was now up, 
and the vultures had grown busy. They flapped 
their shadowy wings, rose from the walls, and 
alighted at different points around the house. 

“Surely there must be carrion,” muttered Von 
fcdocm. 


THE FATE OF THE HERD. 


5S 


There was carrion, and plenty of it. As the horse- 
men drew near the vultures rose into the air, and a 
score of half-devoured carcasses could be seen upon 
the ground. The long curving horns that appeared 
beside each carcass rendered it ‘easy to tell to what 
sort of animals they belonged. In the torn and 
mutilated fragments Yon Bloom recognized the re- 
mains of his lost herd ! 

Not one was left alive. There could be seen the 
remains of all of them, both cows and oxen, lying 
near the enclosures and on the adjacent plain — each 
where it had fallen. 

But how had they fallen ? That was Hie mystery. 

Surely they could not have perished of hunger, 
and so suddenly ! They could not have died of 
thirst, for there was the spring bubbling up just 
beside where they lay ! The vultures had not killed 
them ! What then ? 

Yon Bloom did not ask many questions. He was 
not left long in doubt. As he and his companions 
rode over the ground, the mystery was explained. 
The tracks of lions, hyenas, and jackals, made 
everything clear enough. A large troop of these 
animals had been upon the ground. The scarcity of 
game, caused by the migration of the locusts, had 
no doubt rendered them more than usually ravenous, 
and in consequence the cattle became their prey. 

Where were they now ? The morning light, an' 
the sight of the house, perhaps, had driven them od. 
But their spoor was quite fresh. They were t ^ar at 
hand, and would be certain to return again up'm the 
following night. 


60 


THE FATE OF THE HERD. 


Von Bloom felt a strong desire to be revenged 
upon the hideous brutes ; and, under other circum- 
stances, would have remained to get a shot at them. 
Bufc just then that would have been both imprudent 
and unprofitable work. It would be as much as 
their horses could accomplish to get back to camp 
that night ; so, without even entering the old house, 
they watered their animals, refilled their calabashes' 
at the spring, and with heavy hearts on-of •soro rode 
away from the kraal. 


A LION COUCHANT 


61 


CHAPTER IX. 

A LION COUCHANT 

Thet had not proceeded a hundied steps when an 
object appeared before them that caused all three 
to draw bridle suddenly and simultaneously. That 
object was a lion ! 

He was couched upon the plain directly in the 
path they intended to take — the very same path by 
which they had come. 

How was it they had not seen him before ? He 
was under the lee of a low bush ; but, thanks to the 
locusts, this bush was leafless, and its thin naked 
twigs formed no concealment for so large a creature 
as a lion. His tawny hide shone conspicuously 
through them. 

The truth is, he had not been there when the 
horsemen passed towards the kraal. He had just 
fled from among the carcasses, on seeing them 
approach ; and had skulked around the walls, and 
then run to their rear. He had executed this man- 
oeuvre to avoid an encounter — for a lion reasons as 
a man does, though not to the same extent. Seeing 
the horsemen come that way, his reasoning powers 
were strong enough to tell him that they were not 
likely to return by the same path It was more nat> 
ural thej should continue on. A man, ignorant of 


62 


A LION COUCHANT. 


all the preceding events connected with their joui 
ney, would have reasoned much in the same way. 
If you have been at all observant, you have seen 
other animals — such as dogs, deer, hares, or even 
birds — act just as the lion did on this occasion. 

Beyond a doubt, the intellectual process described 
passed through the mind of this lion ; and he had 
skulked round to shun an encounter with the three 
travellers. 

Now, a lion will not always act so — though he 
will in five cases out* of six, or oftener. Hence very 
erroneous views are held in relation to the courage 
of this animal. Some naturalists, led away by what 
appears to be a feeling of envy or anger, accuse the 
lion of downright cowardice , denying him a single 
noble quality of all those that have from earliest 
times been ascribed to him. Others, on the con- 
trary, assert that he knows no fear, either of man or 
beast ; and these endow him with many virtues 
besides courage. Both parties back up their views, 
not by mere assertions, but by an ample narration 
of well-attested facts. 

How is this ? There is a dilemma here. Both 
cannot be right in their opinions ? And yet, odd as 
it may appear to say so, both are right in a certain 
sense. 

The fact is, some lions are cowardly , while others 
are brave. 

The truth of this might be shown by whole pages 
of facts, but in this little volume we have no room. 
i think, however, boy-reader, I can satisfy you with 
An analogy. 


A LION COUCHANT 


tJ3 


Answer me — Do you know any species of animal 
the individuals of which are exactly alike in charac* 
ter ? Think over the dogs of your acquaintance. 
Are they alike, or anything near it ? Are not some 
of them noble, generous, faithful, brave to the death ? 
Are not others mean, sneaking, cowardly curs ? So 
is it with lions. 

Now you are satisfied that my statement about 
the lions may be true. 

There are many causes to affect the courage and 
ferocity of the lion. Ilis age — the state of his 
stomach — the season of the year — the hour of the 
day — but, above all, the sort of hunters that belong to 
the district he inhabits . 

This last fact appears quite natural to those who 
believe in the intellect of animals, which of course ± 
do. It is perfectly natural that the lion, as well as 
other animals, should soon learn the character of his 
enemy, and fear him or not, as the case may be. Is 
this not an old story with us ? If I remember aright, 
we had a talk upon this subject when speaking of 
the crocodiles of America. We remarked that the 
alligator of the Mississippi rarely attacks man in 
modern times ; but it has not always been so. The 
rifle of the alligator-leather hunter has tamed its 
ferocity. The very same species in South America 
eats Indians by scores e~ery year ; and the crocodile 
of Africa is dreaded in some parts even more Aian 
the lion. 

It is asserted that the lions of the Cape are more 
cowardly in some districts than in others. They are 
less brave in those districts where they have been 


64 


A LION COUCH A NT. 


“jaged” by the courageous and stalwart boor with 
his long loud-cracking “ roer.” 

Beyond the frontier, where they have no enemy 
but the tiny arrow of the Bushman (who does not 
desire to kill them) and the slender “ asegai ” of the 
Bechuana, the lion has little or no fear of man. 

Whether the one before the eyes of our party was 
naturally a brave one, could not yet be told. lie 
was one with a huge black mane, or “ schwart-fore 
life,” as the boors term it ; and these are esteemed 
the fiercest and most dangerous. The “ yellow- 
maned ” — for there is considerable variety in the 
color of the Cape lions — is regarded as possessing 
less courage ; but there is some doubt about the 
truth of this. The young “ black-manes ” may often 
be mistaken for the true yellow variety, and their 
character ascribed to him to his prejudice, — for the 
swarthy color of the mane only comes after the lion 
is many years of age. 

Whether the “ schwart-fore life ” was a fierce and 
brave one, Yon Bloom did not stay to think about. 
It was evident that the edge had been taken off the 
animal's appetite. It was evident he did not medi- 
tate an attack ; and that, had the horsemen chosen to 
make a detour, and ride peacefully away, they might 
have continued their journey without ever seeing or 
hearing of him again. 

But the field-cornet had no such intention. He 
had lost his precious oxen and cattle. That lion had 
pulled down some of them, at least. The Dutch 
blood was up, and if the beast had been the strongest 


fc LION COUCHAN1. 


65 


ind fiercest of his tribe, he was bound to be brought 
out of that bush. 

Ordering the others to remain where they were. 
Yon Bloom advanced on horseback until within about 
fifty paces of where the lion lay. Here he drew up, 
coolly dismounted, passed the bridle over his arm, 
stuck his loading-rod into the ground, and knelt 
down behind it. 

You will fancy he would have been safer to have 
kept his saddle, as the lion cannot overtake a horse. 
True ; but the lion would have been safer too. It is 
no easy matter to fire correctly from any horse ; but 
when the mark happens to be a grim lion, he is a 
well-trained steed that will stand sufficiently firm to 
admit of a true aim. A shot from the saddle under 
such circumstances is a mere chance shot ; and the 
field-cornet was not in the mood to be satisfied with 
a chance shot. Laying his roer athwart the loading- 
rod, and holding the long barrel steady against it, 
he took deliberate aim through the ivory sights. 

During all this time the lion had not stirred. The 
bush was between him and the hunter ; but he could 
hardly have believed that it sufficed to conceal him. 
Far from it. His yellow flanks were distinctly visi- 
ble through the thorny twigs, and his head could be 
seen, with his muzzle and whiskers stained red with 
the blood of the oxen. 

No — he did not believe himself hid. A slight 
growl, with one or two shakes of his tail, proved the 
contrary. He lay still, however, as lions usually 
do, until more nearly approached. The hunter, an 
already stated, was full fifty yards from him. 

& 


66 


A LION COUCHANT. 


Except ng the motion of his tail, he n ade lo othei 
till Yon Bloom pulled trigger; and then with a 
scream he sprang several feet into the air. The 
hunter had been afraid of the twigs causing his bul- 
let to glance off ; but it was plain it had told truly, 
for he saw the fur fly from the side of the lion where 
it struck him. 

It was but a wound ; and not deadly, as soon 
appeared. 

With long bounds the angry brute came on, lash > 
ing his tail, and showing his fearful teeth. His 
mane, now on end, seemed to have doubled his size. 
He looked as large as a bull. 

In a few seconds’ time he had crossed the distance 
that separated him from the hunter, but the latter 
was gone far from that spot. The moment he had 
delivered his fire, he leaped upon his well-trained 
horse, and rode off towards the others. 

All three were for a short while together — Hen- 
drik holding his yager cocked and ready, while 
Swartboy grasped his bow and arrows. But the 
lion dashed forward before either could fire ; and 
they were obliged to spur and gallop out of his way. 

Swartboy had ridden to one side, while Yon Bloom 
and Hendrik took the other ; and the game was now 
between the two parties — both of which had pulled 
up at some distance off. 

The lion, after the failure of his charge, halted, 
and looked first at one, then at the other, as if 
uncertain which to pursue. 

His appearance at this moment was terrible be- 
yond expression. His whole fierce nature was roused 


A LION COUCHANT. 


61 

Eis mane stood erect ; his tail lashed Ins flanks ; Lis 
, mouth, widely open, showed the firm-set trenchant 
teeth, their white spikes contrasting with the red 
blood that clotted his cheeks and snout, while his 
angry roaring added horror to his appearance. 

But none of the three were terrified out of their 
senses. Hendrik- at this moment covered him with 
his rifle, took cool aim, and fired ; while at the same 
instant Swartboy sent an arrow whistling through 
the air. 

Both had aimed truly. Both bullet and arrow 
struck ; and the shaft of the latter could be seen 
sticking in the lion's thigh. 

The fierce brute, that up to this time had exhibited 
the most determined courage, now seemed overcome 
with a sudden fear. Either the arrow or one of the 
bullets must have sickened him with the combat ; 
for, dropping his mop-like tail to a level with the 
line of his back, he broke away, and, trotting sulkily 
forward, sprang in at the door of the knial 


A LION IN THE TRAP 


«8 


V 


CHAPTER X 

A LION IN THE TRAP. 

There was something singular in tUc lion sowing 
shelter in so unusual a place ; but it showed hia 
sagacity. There was no other cover within conve- 
nient distance, and to have reached any bush that 
would have afforded him concealment, since the pas- 
sage of the locusts, would have been difficult. The 
mounted hunters could easily have overtaken him, 
had he attempted to run off. He was aware that 
the house was uninhabited. He had been prowling 
around it all the night, perhaps within it, and, there- 
fore, knew what sort of place it was. 

The brute’s instinct was correct. The walls of 
the house would protect him from the guns of his 
enemies at a distance; and for these to approach 
near would be his advantage and their danger. 

An odd incident occurred as the lion entered the 
kraal. There was a large window in one endnof the 
house. Of course it was not glazed — it never had 
been. A glass window is a rarity in these parts. 
A strong wooden shutter alone closed it. This was 
still hanging on its hinges, but in the hurried 
“flitting” the window had been left open. The 
door also had been standing ajar. As the lion sprang 
in at the latter, a string of small foxy, wolf-like creit> 


A LION IN THE TRAP. 


69 


ChtCts came pouring out through the former, and ran 
with all their might across the plain. They were 
jackals. 

As it afterwards appealed, one of the oxen had 
been chased into the house by either lions or hyenas, 
and killed there. His carcass had been overlooked 
by the larger carnivora, and the cunning jackals had 
been making a quiet breakfast upon it, when so un- 
ceremoniously disturbed. 

The entrance of their terrible king in such angry 
mood, by the door, caused the fox-wolves to beat a 
quick retreat by the window ; and the appearance 
of the horsemen without had still further frightened 
these cowardly brutes, so that they ran away from 
the kraal at top speed, and never halted until they 
were out of sight. 

The three hunters could not restrain a laugh ; but 
their tone was suddenly changed by another incident 
that happened almost at the same moment 

Yon Bloom had brought with him his two fine 
dogs, to assist in driving back the cattle. 

During the short halt the party had made by the 
spiing, these had fastened upon a half-eaten carcass 
behind the walls ; and, being extremely hungry, had 
stuck to it, even after the horsemen had ridden off. 
Neither of the dogs had seen the lion, until the 
moment when the savage brute charged forward, 
and was making for the kraal. The shots, the growl- 
ing of the lion, and the loud wings of the vultures as 
they flew off affrighted, told the dogs that something 
was going on in front, at which they ought to be 

F 


70 


A LION IN THE TRAP. 


present ; and, forsaking their pleasant meal, th tf. 
came bounding over the walls. 

They reached the open space in front just as the 
lion leaped into the door ; and without hesitation 
the brave, noble animals rushed on, and followed him 
inside the house. 

For some moments there was heard a confused 
chorus of noises ; the barking and worrying of the 
dogs, the growling and roaring of the lion. Then 
a dull sound followed, as of some heavy object dashed 
against the wall. Then came a mournful howl ; 
another, another ; a noise like the cracking of bones ; 
the “ purr ” of the great brute with its loud rough 
bass — and then a deep silence. The struggle was 
over. This was evident, as the dogs no longer gave 
tongue. Most likely they were killed. 

The hunters remained watching the door with 
feelings of intense anxiety. The laugh had died 
upon their lips, as they listened to those hideous 
sounds, the signs of the fearful combat. They 
called their dogs by name. They hoped to see them 
issue forth, even if wounded. But no. The dogs 
came not forth; they never came forth — they were 
dead. 

A long-continued silence followed the noise q £ the 
conflict. Von Bloom could no longer doubt that his 
favorite and only dogs had been killed. 

Excited by this new misfortune, he almost lost 
prudence. He was about to rush forwaid to the 
door, where he might deliver his fire close to the hated 
enemy, when a bright idea came into the brain of 
Swartboy ; and the Bushman was heard calling out, 


A LION IN THE TRAP. 


71 


** Baas ! baas ! we shut him up ! we close da skel 
ium up ! ” 

There was good sense in this suggestion ; there 
was plausibility in it. Yon Bloom saw this ; and, 
desisting from his previous intention, he determined 
to adopt Swartboy’s plan. 

But how was it to be executed ? The dooi still 
hung upon its hinges, as also the window-shutter. 
If they could only get hold of these, and shut them 
fast, they would have the lion secure, and might 
destroy him at their leisure. 

But how to shut either door or window in safety ? 
That was the difficulty that now presented itself. 

Should they approach either, the lion would be 
certain to see them from within ; and, enraged as he 
now was, would be sure to spring upon them. Even 
if they approached on horseback to effect their pur- 
pose, they would not be much safer. The horses 
would not stand quiet while they stretched out to 
lay hold of latch or handle. All three of the animals 
were already dancing with excitement. They knew 
the lion was inside, an occasional growl announced 
his presence there ; they would not approach either 
door or window with sufficient coolness ; and their 
stamping and snorting would have the effect of 
bringing the angry beast out upon them. 

It was clear, then, that to shut either door or 
window would be an operation of great danger. So 
long as the horsemen were in open ground, and at 
some distance from the lion, they had no cause to 
fear; bit should they approach near and get 
entangled among the walls, some one of them 


72 


A LION IN THE TRAP. 


would be most likely to fall a victim to tlie ferocious 
brute. 

Low as may be the standard of a Bushman’s in 
tellect, there is a species peculiar to him in which 
he appears to excel. In all matters of hunter-craft, 
his intelligence, or instinct you might almost call it, 
is quite a match for the more highly-developed mind 
of the Caucasian. This arises, no doubt, from the 
keen and frequent exercise of those particular facul- 
ties — keen and frequent, because his very existence 
often depends on their successful employment. 

Huge ill-shapen head that Swartboy carried on 
his shoulders, there was an ample stock of brains in 
it ; and a life of keen endeavor to keep his stomach 
supplied had taught him their exercise. At that 
moment Swartboy’s brains came to the relief of the 
party. 

“ Baas ! ” he said, endeavoring to restrain the 
impatience of his master, “ vyacht um bige, mein 
baas ! Leave it to da ole Bushy to close da door. 
He do it.” 

“ How ? ” inquired Yon Bloom. 

“ Yyacht um bige, mein baas ! no long to wait — 
you see.” 

All three had ridden up together within less than 
a hundred yards of the kraal. Yon Bloom and 
Hendrik sat silent, and watched the proceedings of 
the Bushman. 

The latter drew from his pocket a clue of small 
cord, and, having carefully uncoiled it, attached one 
end to an arrow. He then rode up to within thirty 
yards of the house, and dismounted, not directly 


A LION IN THE TRAP. 


73 


opposite the entrance, but a little to the cue side so 
that the face of the wooden door, which was fortu- 
nately but three quarters open, was thus fair before 
him. Keeping the bridle over his arm, he now bent 
his bow, and sent the arrow into the woodwork of 
the door. There it was, sticking near the edge, and 
jrst under the latch. 

As soon as Swartboy delivered the shaft, he had 
leaped back into his saddle, to be ready for retreat 
in case the lion should charge out. He still, how- 
ever, kept hold of the string, one end of which was 
attached to the arrow. 

The 11 thud ” of the arrow, as it struck the door, 
had drawn the attention of the lion. Of course 
none of them saw him, but his angry growl told them 
that it was so. He did not show himself, however, 
and was again silent. 

Swartboy now drew the string taut ; first felt it 
with a steady pull ; and then, satisfied of its strength, 
gave it a stronger jerk, and brought the door to. 
The latch acted beautifully, and the door remained 
shut even after the strain was taken off the cord. 

To have opened the door now, the lion must have 
had the sagacity to lift the latch, or else must have 
broken through the thick, strong planks — neither 
of which things was to be feared. 

But the window still remained open, and through 
it the lion could easily leap out. Swartboy, of course, 
designed closing it in the same manner as he had 
done the door. 

But now arose a particular danger. He had only 
one piece of cord. That was attached to the ano\# 


74 


A LION IN THE TRAP. 


that still stuck fast How was he to detach and get 
possession of it ? 

There appeared to be no other way but by going 
up to the door and cutting it from the shaft. In this 
lay the danger ; for, should the lion perceive him 
and rush out by the window, it would be all over 
with the Bushman. 

Like most of his race, Swartboy was more cunning 
than brave — though he was far from being a coward. 
Still, he was by no means inclined at that moment 
to go up to the door of the kraal. 

The angry growls from within would have made a 
stouter heart than Swartboy’s quail with fear. 

In this dilemma Hendrik came to his relief. Hen- 
drik had conceived a way of getting possession of 
the string, without going near the door. 

Calling to Swartboy to be on his guard, he rode 
within thirty yards of the entrance, but on the other 
Bide from where Swartboy was, and there halted. 
At the place there stood a post with several forks 
upon it, that had been used as a bridle-post. 

Hendrik dismounted, hooked his rein over one of 
these forks, rested his yager across another, and 
then, sighting the shaft of the arrow, pulled trigger. 
The rifle cracked, the broken stick was seen to fly 
out from the door, and the string was set free. 

All were ready to gallop off; but the lion, 
although he growled fiercely on hearing the shot, 
still lay close. 

Swartboy now drew in the string; and, having 
adjusted it to a fresh arrow, moved round so as to 
command a view of the window. In a few minutes 



















































. 























' 

V . * . 




| * 
















A LION IN THE TRAP. 




the shaft had cut through the air and stuck deep into 
^he yielding wood, and then the shutter swung round 
on its hinges, and was drawn close. 

All three now dismounted, ran silently and rapidly 
up, and secured both door and shutter with strong 
rheins of raw-hide. 

Hurra ! the lion was caged I 


THE DEATH OF THE LION. 




CHAPTER XI. 

THE DEATH OF THE LION. 

Yes, the fierce brute was fairly in the trap The 
three hunters breathed freely. 

But how was the affair to end ? Both door and 
window-shutter fitted strongly and closely ; and, 
although it was possible to glance through the 
chinks, nothing could be seen inside — since, both 
being shut, it was quite dark within. 

Even could the lion have been seen, there was no 
. hole through which to thrust the muzzle of a gun 
and fire at him. He was just as safe as his captors ; 
and, so long as the door remained closed, they could 
do him no more harm than he could them. 

They might leave him shut up, and let him starve. 
He could live for a while upon what the jackals had 
left, with the carcasses of the two dogs ; but that 
would not sustain him long, and in the end he would 
have to give up and miserably perish. After all, 
this did not seem so certain to Von Bloom and his 
companions. Finding that he was caged in earnest, 
the brute might attack the door, and with his sharp 
claws and teeth manage to cut his way through. 

But the angry field-cornet had not the slightest 
intention of leaving the lion such a chance. He was 
determined to destroy the beast, before leaving the 


THE DEATH OF THE LION. 


71 


ground ; and he now set to thinking hew this could 
be accomplished in the speediest and most effectual 
manner 

At first he thought of cutting a hole in the dooi 
witn his knife, large enough to see through and 
admit the barrel of his roer. Should he not succeed 
in getting a view of the beast through that one, he 
would make another in the window- shutter. The 
two being on adjacent sides of the house, would 
give him the command of the whole interior — for 
the former dwelling of the field-cornet comprised 
only a single apartment. During his residence there, 
there had been two, thanks to a partition of zebra- 
skins ; but these had been removed, and all was 
now in one room. 

At first Von Bloom could think of no other plan 
to get at the enemy, and yet this one did not quite 
please him. It was safe enough, and, if carried out, 
could only end in the death of the lion. 

A hole in both door and window-shutter would 
enable them to fire at the brute as many bullets as 
they pleased, while they would be quite secure from 
his attack. But the time that would be required to 
cut these holes — that was why the plan did not 
please the field-cornet. He and his party had no 
time to spare : their horses were weak with hunger, 
and a long journey lay before them ere a morsel 
could be obtained. No, — the time could not be 
spared for making a breach. Some more expeditious 
mode of attack must be devised. 

“ Father, ” said Hendrik, “suppose we set the 
house on fire ? ” 


78 


THE DEATH OF THE LION. 


Good The suggestion was a good one. Voe 
Bloom cast his eyes up to the roof — a sloping struc- 
ture, with long eaves. It consisted of heavy beams 
of dry wood, with rafters and laths, and all covered 
over with a thatch of rushes, a foot in thickness. It 
would make a tremendous blaze, and the smoke 
would be likely enough to suffocate the lion even 
before the blaze could get at him. 

The suggestion of Hendrik was adopted. They 
prepared to fire the house. 

There was still a large quantity of rubbish, — tne 
collected firewood, which the locusts had not de- 
voured. This would enable them to carry out their 
purpose ; and all three immediately set about hauling 
it up, and piling it against the door. 

One might almost have fancied that the lion had 
fathomed their design ; for, although he had been 
for a long while quite silent, he now commenced 9 
fresh spell of roaring. Perhaps the noise of the logs, 
striking against the door outside, had set him at it ; 
and, finding himself thus shut up and baited, he had 
grown impatient. What he had sought as a shelter 
had been turned into a trap , and he was now anxious 
Id get out of it. 

This was evident by the demonstrations he began 
to make. They could hear him rushing about — 
passing fiom door to window — striking both with 
his huge paws, and causing them to shake upon 
tlieii hinges — all the while uttering the most fiend- 
ish roars. 

Though not without some apprehensions, the three 
continued their work. They had their horses at 


THE DEATH OF THE LION. 


7S 


band, ready to be mounted in case the lion might 
make his way through the fire. In fact, they in- 
tended to take to their saddles, as soon as the fire 
should be fairly under way, and watch the confla* 
gration from a safe distance. 

They had dragged up all the bush and dry wood, 
and had piled them in front of the door. Swartboy 
had taken out his flint and steel, and was about to 
strike, when a loud scratching was heard from the 
inside, unlike anything that had yet reached their 
ears. It was the rattling of the lion's claws against 
the wall, but it had an odd sound, as if the animal 
was struggling violently ; at the same time his voice 
seemed hoarse and smothered, and appeared to come 
from a distance. 

What was the brute doing ? 

They stood, for a moment, looking anxiously in 
each other's faces. The scratching continued — the 
hoarse growling at intervals — but this ended at 
length ; and then came a snort, followed by a ioar 
so loud and clear, that all three started in affright. 
They could not believe that walls were between them 
and their dangerous enemy. 

Again echoed that horrid cry, Great Heaven ! 
It proceeded no longer from the inside — it came 
from above them ! 

Was the lion upon the roof ? 

All three rushed backward a step or two, and 
lookel up. A sight was before them that rendered 
them almost speechless with surprise and terror. 

Aboye the funnel of the chimney appeared the 
head of the lion ; his glaring yellow eyes and white 


80 


THE DEATH OF THE LION. 


teeth showing more fearful from contrast with the 
black soot that begrimmed him. He was dragging 
his body up. One foot was already above the cap- 
stone ; and with this ar.d his teeth he was widening 
the aperture around him. 

It was a terrible sight to behold — at least to those 
below. 

As already stated, they were alarmed ; and would 
have taken to their horses, had they not perceived 
that the animal was stuck fast 1 

It was evident that this was the case, but it was 
equally evident that in a few moments he would 
succeed in clearing himself from the chimney. His 
teeth and claws were hard at work, and the stones 
and mortar were flying in all directions. The funnel 
would soon be down below his broad chest, and 
then 

Von Bloom did not stay to think what then. He 
and Hendrik, guns in hand, ran up near the bottom 
of the wall. The chimney was but a score of feet 
in height ; the long roer was pointed upward, reach- 
ing nearly half that distance. The yager was also 
aimed. Both cracked together. The lion’s eyes 
suddenly closed, his head shook convulsively, his 
paw dropped loose over the capstone, his jaws fell 
open, and blood trickled down his tongue. In a few 
moments he was dead ! 

This was apparent to every one. But Swartboy 
was not satisfied until he had discharged about a 
score of his arrows at the head of the animal, Giusing 
it to assume the appearance of a porcupine 

So tightly had the huge beast wedged himself 


THE DEATH OF THE LION. 


81 


tnat even after death he still remained in his singu- 
lar situation. 

Under other circumstances he would have been 
dragged down for the sake of his skin. But theie 
was no time to spare for skinning him ; and with 
out further delay V"on Bloom and his companion* 
mounted their horses qjid rode off. 

& 


82 


A TALK ABOUT LIONS 


CHAPTER XII. 

A TALK ABOUT LIONS 

As they rode back they conversed about lions, to 
beguile the time. All of them knew something 
about these animals. But Swartboy, who had been 
born and brought up in the bush, in the very midst 
of their haunts, as it were, of course was well ac- 
quainted with their habits — ay, far better than 
Monsieur Buffon himself. 

To describe the personal appearance of a lion 
would be to waste words. Every one who can read 
must know the lion by sight, either from having seen 
one in a zoological collection, or the stuffed skin of 
one in a museum. Every one knows the form of the 
animal, and his great shaggy mane. Every one 
knows, moreover, that the female is without this 
appendage, and in shape and size differs consider- 
ably from the male. 

Though there are no two species of lions, there are 
what are termed varieties ; but these differ very little 
from each other — far less than the varieties of most 
other animals. 

There are seven acknowledged varieties. The 
Barbary lion, the lion of Senegal, the Indian lion, 
the Persian, the yellow Cape, tb^ black Cape, and 
the maneless lion. 


A TALK ABOUT LIONS. 


83 


The difference among these animals is not so 
great but that at a glance any one may tell Ihey 
were all of one species and kind. The Persian 
variety is rather smaller than the others ; the Bar- 
bary is of darker^ brown and heavily maned ; the 
lion of Senegal is of light shining yellow color, and 
thinly maned ; while the maneless lion, as its name 
imports, is without this appendage. The existence 
of the last species is doubted by some naturalists. 
It is said to be found in Syria. 

The two Cape lions differ principally in the color 
of the mane. In the one it is black or dark brown ; 
in the other, of a tawny yellow, like the rest of the 
body. 

Of all lions, those of South Africa are perhaps 
the largest, and the black variety the most fierce 
and dangerous. 

Lions inhabit the whole continent of Africa, and 
the southern countries of Asia. They were once 
common in parts of Europe, where they exist no 
longer. There are no lions in America. The animal 
known in Spanish-American countries as the lion 
( leon ) is the cougar or puma ( Felis concolor), which 
is not one third the lion’s size, and resembles the 
king of beasts only in being of the same tawny color. 
The puma is not unlike a lion’s cub six months old. 

Africa is peculiarly the country of the lion He 
is found throughout the whole extent of that conti- 
nent — excepting, of course, a few thickly-inhabited 
spots, from which lie has been expelled by man. 

The lion has been called the “ king of the forest.” 
This appears to be a misnomer. He is not properly 


84 


A TALK ABOUT LIONS. 


a forest animal. He cannot climb trees, and there 
fore in the forest would less easily procure his food 
than in the open plain. The panther, the leopard, 
the jaguar, are all tree-climbers. They can follow 
the bird to its roost, and the monkey to its perch. 
The forest is their appropriate home. They are 
foiest animals. Not so the lion. It is upon the 
open plains, where the great ruminants love to 
roam, and among the low bushy thickets that skirt 
them, that the lion affects to dwell. 

He lives upon flesh, — the flesh of many kinds of 
animals, though he has his favorites, according to the 
country in which he is found. He kills these animals 
for himself. The story of the jackal being his “ pro- 
vider,” — killing them for him, — is not true. More 
often he himself provides the skulking jackals with a 
meal. Hence their being often seen in his com- 
pany — which they keep, in order to pick up his 
“ crumbs.” 

The lion “ butchers ” for himself, though he will 
not object to have it done for him ; and will take 
away their game from wolf, jackal, or hyena — from 
the hunter, if he can. 

The lion is not a fast runner — none of the true 
felidce are. Nearly all the ruminant animals can 
outrun him. How, then, does he capture them ? 

By stratagem, by the suddenness of his attack, 
and by the length and velocity of his bound. He 
lies in wait, or steals upon them. He springs from 
his crouching place. His peculiar anatomical struc- 
ture enables him to spring to an immense distance — 
in fact, to an almost incredible distance. Sixteen 


A TALK ABOUT LIONS. 


8S 


paces have been alleged by writers, who say they 
were eye-witnesses, and carefully measured the leap ! 

Should he fail to capture his prey at the first 
bound, the lion follows it no further, but turns and 
ci'ots away in an opposite direction. 

Sometimes, however, the intended victim tempts 
him to a second spring, and even to a third ; but 
failing then, he is sure to give up the pursuit. 

The lion is not gregarious, although as many as 
ten or a dozen are often seen together. They hunt 
in company at times, and drive the game towards one 
another. 

They attack and destroy all other species of ani- 
mals that inhabit the country around them — even 
the strong, heavy rhinoceros is not feared by them, 
though the latter frequently foils and conquers them. 
Young elephants sometimes become their prey. The 
fierce buffalo, the giraffe, the oryx, the huge eland, 
and the eccentric gnoo, all have to succumb to their 
superior strength and armature. 

But they are not universally victorious over these 
animals. Sometimes they are vanquished by one or 
other of them, and in turn become victims. Some- 
times both combatants leave their bodies upon the 
scene of the struggle. 

The lion is not hunted as a profession. His spoils 
are worthless. His skin sells for but little, and ho 
yields no other trophy of any value. As hunting 
him is attended with great danger, and the hunter, 
as already stated, may avoid him if he wishes, but 
few lions would be destroyed, were it not for a cer- 
tain offensive habit to which they are ad lie ted — that 

G 


86 


A TALK ABOUT LIONS. 


of robbing the vee-boor of his horses and his cattle 
This brings a new passion into play, — the vengeance 
of the farmer ; and, with such a motive to urge on 
the hunt, the lion in some parts is chased with great 
zeal and assiduity. 

But where there are no cattle-farms no such 
motive exists ; and there but little interest is felt 
in the chase of this animal. Nay, what is still 
stranger, the Bushmen and other poor wandering 
tribes do not kill the lion at all, or very seldom. 
They do not regard him with feelings of hostility. 
The lion acts towards them as a “ provider.” 

Hendrik, who had heard of this, asked Swartboy 
if it was true. 

The Bushman answered at once in the affirma- 
tive. 

His people, he said, were in the habit of watching 
the lion, or following his spoor, until they came upon 
either himself or the quarry he had killed. Some- 
times the vultures guided them to it. When the 
“ tao ” chanced to be on the spot, or had not yet 
finished his meal, his trackers would wait until he 
had taken his departure, after which they would 
steal up and appropriate what remained of the spoil. 
Often this would be the half, or perhaps three parts, 
of some large animal, which they might have found 
a difficulty in killing for themselves. 

Knowing the lion will rarely attack them, the 
Bushmen are not much afraid of these animals. 
On the contrary, they rather rejoice at seeing them 
numerous in their district, as they are then provided 
with hunters able to furnish flujm with food. 


fHE TRAVELLERS BENIGHTED 


II 


CIIAPTER XIII. 

fHE TRA\ EuLERS BENIGHTED. 

Wv<tIIers would have talked much more about 
Auiis, but for the condition of their horses. This 
made them feel uneasy. With the exception of a 
few hours’ grazing, the poor brutes had been without 
food since the appearance of the locusts. Horses 
do not travel well upon soft grass, and of course 
they were now suffering severely. 

It would be far in. the night before the horsemen 
could reach the camp, although they were pushing 
on as fast as the horses could travel. 

It was quite dark when they arrived at the spot 
where they had halted the previous evening. In 
fact, it was very dark. Neither moon nor stars were 
to be seen in the sky ; and thick black clouds cov- 
ered the whole canopy of the heavens. It looked as 
though a rain-storm might be expected ; still no 
rain had as yet fallen. 

It was the intention of the travellers to halt at 
this place, and let their horses graze a while. With 
this view they all dismounted ; but, after trying one 
or two places, they could find no grass. 

This appeared strange, as they had certainly ob- 
served grass at that very spot the day before. Now 
there was none. 


88 


THE TRAVELLERS BENIGHTED 


The horses put their noses to the ground, but 
raised them up again, snorting as they did so, and 
evidently disappointed. They were hungry enough 
to have eaten grass had there been any, for they 
"eagerly snatched at the leaves of the bushes as they 
passed along. 

Had the locusts been there also ? No. The 
mimosa-bushes still retained their delicate foliage, 
which would not have been the case had the locusts 
visited the spot. 

Our travellers were astonished that there w’as no 
grass. Surely there was some the day before. Had 
they got upon a new track ? 

The darkness prevented them from having a view 
of the ground ; yet Yon Bloom could not be mistaken 
about the route, having travelled it four times 
already. Though he could not see the surface, 
every now and again he caught a glimpse of some 
tree or bush which he had marked in his former 
journeys, and these assured him they were still upon 
the right track. 

Surprised at the absence of grass where they had 
so lately observed it, they would have examined the 
surface more carefully ; but they were anxious to 
push on to the spring, and at length gave up the 
idea of halting. The water in their gourds had been 
used up long before this ; and both they and their 
horses were once more suffering from thirst. 

Besides, Von Bloom was not without some anxiety 
about the children at the wagon. He had been 
separated from them now a full day and a half, and 
many a change might take place, many a danger 


THE TRAVELLERS BENIGHTED. 


89 


might arisv), in that time. In fact, he began to blam6 
himself for having left them alone. It would have 
been better to have let his cattle perish. So thought 
he now. A presentiment that all was not right was 
gradually forming in his mind ; and he grew more 
anxious to proceed as he reflected. 

They rode on in silence. It was only on Ilendrik 
expressing a doubt about the way that the conversa- 
tion recommenced. Swartboy also thought ttej 
were taking a wrong course. 

At first Von Bloom assured them they were right; 
but, after going a little further, he admitted that he 
was in doubt; and then, after another half-mile’s 
travelling, he declared that he had lost the track, 
lie could no longer recognize any one of the marks 
or bearings he had taken. 

The proper thing to be done, under these circum- 
stances, was to leave the horses to themselves ; and 
this all three well knew. But the animals were suf- 
fering the pangs of hunger, and when left to them- 
selves would not journey forward, but rushed up to 
the mimosa-bushes, and eagerly commenced devour- 
ing their leaves. 

The consequence was that their riders were 
obliged to keep them going with whip and spur; 
and in that way there was no certainty of the horses 
taking the right direction. 

After several hours’ advancing, all the while in a 
state of suspense, and as yet no appearance of either 
wagon or camp-fire, the travellers resolved upon 
coming to a halt. It was of no use going forward 
They believed they could not be far from the camp ' 


90 


THE TRAVELLERS BENIGHTED 


but they were now as likely to be riding from as 
towards it, and they concluded at length that it would 
be wiser to remain where they were until the day 
broke. 

They all dismounted, therefore, and fastened their 
horses to the bushes, so that the animals could 
browse upon the leaves till morning, which could 
not now be very far off. They rolled themselves up 
in their karosses, and lay down upon the earth. 

Hendrik and Swartboy were soon asleep. Yon 
Bloom would have slept too, for he was tired enough ; 
but the heart of the father was too full of anxiety to 
allow repose to his eyes, and he lay awake watching 
for the dawn. 

It came at length, and at the first light his eyes 
swept the surface of the surrounding country. The 
party had by chance halted on an eminence that 
commanded a good view for miles on each side, but 
the field-cornet had not glanced half around the cir- 
cle, when an object came before his eyes that brought 
gladness to his heart. It was the white tent of the 
wagon. 

The joyful exclamation he uttered awoke the 
sleepers, who immediately sprang to their feet ; and 
all three stood gazing at the welcome sight. 

As they continued to gaze, their joy gradually 
gave place to feelings of surprise. Was it their 
wagon, after all ? 

It certainly looked like theirs ; but it was a full 
naif-mile off, and at such a distance one wagon would 
look just like another. But what led them to doubt 
its being th irs? It was the appearance of the place 


THE TRAVELLERS BENIGHTED. 


91 


in which they saw it. Surely it was not ths same 
place in which they had outspanned. 

Theirs had been left in an oblong valley between two 
gentle ridges ; in such a valley was this one stand- 
ing. Near a small pool formed by a spring ; here, 
too, was the same, for they could perceive the water 
shining. But in all other respects the situation was 
different. The surface of the valley in which their 
wagon had been left was covered, both sides and 
bottom, with a verdant carpet of grass ; whereas the 
one now before their eyes was brown and bare. 
Not a blade of grass was to be seen — the trees 
seeming to be the only things that had any veidure. 
Even the low bushes appeared to be destitute of 
leaves. The scene had no resemblance whatever to 
that where they had outspanned It must be the 
camp of some other travellers, thought they 

They had fully arrived at this conclusion, when 
Swartboy, whose eyes had been rolling about every- 
where, now rested upon the ground at his feet. 
After a moment's observation, which the increasing 
light now enabled him to make, he turned suddenly 
to the others, and directed their attention to the sur- 
face of the plain. This they saw was covered with 
tracks, as if a thousand hoofs had passed over it. In 
fact, it presented the appearance of a vast sheep- 
pen ; so vast, that as far as their sight extended 
they beheld the same tracked and trampled appear- 
ance. 

What could this mean ? Hendrik did not know. 
Von Bloom was in doubt. Swartboy could tell at 
the first glance. It was no new sight to him 


02 


THE TRAVELLERS BENIGHTED 


“ All right, baas;” he said, looking up in his ma» 
ter's face. “Da's da ole wagon ! da same spring 
an vley, da same place ; dar hab been um trek • 
boken! ” 

“ A trek-boken ! ” cried Yon Bloom and Hendrik, 
£n a breath. 

“ Ya, baas ; a mighty big one too ; das de spool 
of dem antelope. See ! ” 

Yon Bloom now comprehended all. The bareness 
of the country, the absence of the leaves on the lower 
bushes, the millions of small hoof-tracks, all were 
now explained. A migration of the springbok ante- 
lope, a “trek-boken,” had swept over the spot. 
That it was that had caused such a mighty change. 
The wagon they saw was theirs, after all. 

They lost no time, but, catching their horses, 
bridled them, and rode rapidly down the hill. 

Though somewhat relieved at seeing the wagon, 
Von Bloom was still apprehensive. 

As they approached, they perceived the two horses 
standing beside it, and tied to the wheels ; the cow 
also was there ; but neither goats nor sheep were in 
the neighborhood. 

There was a fire burning in the rear of the hind- 
wheels, and a dark mass underneath the wagon, but 
no human form could be observed. 

The hearts of the horsemen beat loudly as they 
advanced. Their eyes were bent earnestly upon the 
wagon. They felt keen anxiety. 

They had got within three hundred yards, and still 
no one stirred — no human form made its appearance 
Yon Bloom and Hendrik now suffered intensely. 


THE TRAVELLERS BENIGHTED. 


93 


At this moment the two horses by the wagon 
neighed loudly ; the dark mass under the wagon 
moved, rolled outward, rose up, and stood erect 
Totty was recognized. 

And now the “ after- clap ” of the wagon was 
hurriedly drawn aside, and three young faces were 
seen peeping forth. 

A shout of joy burst from the horsemen, and the 
next moment little Jan and Triiey leaped out from 
the cap-tent into the arms of their father ; while the 
mutual congratulations of Hans and Hendrik, Swart- 
boy and Totty, produced for some moments a scene 
of joyful confusion quite indescribable. 

H 


% 


94 


THE TREK-BOKEN. 


CHAPTER XIV 

THE TREK-BOKEN. 

Those who remained by the camp had had then 
adventures too ; and their tale was by no means a 
merry one, for it disclosed the unpleasant fact that 
the sheep and goats were all lost. The flock had 
been carried off, in a most singular manner; and 
there was but little hope of their ever being seen 
again. 

Hans began his tale : 

“ Nothing unusual occurred on the day you left 
us. I was busy all the afternoon in cutting ' wait-a- 
bit ’ thorns for a kraal. Totty helped me to drag 
them up, while Jan and Triiey looked after the flock. 
The animals did not stray out of the valley here, as 
the grass was good, and they had had enough of 
trotting lately. 

“ Well ; Totty and I got the kraal, as you see, all 
ready. So, when night came, we drove the flock in ; 
and, after milking the cow and getting our supper, 
we all went to bed. We were precious tired, and 
all of us slept soundly throughout the night, without 
being disturbed. Both jackals and hyenas came 
around, but we knew they would not break into that 
farad.” 


THE TREK-BOKEN. 


9ft 


Hans pointed to the circular enclosure of thorn- 
bushes, that had been well constructed. 

He then proceeded with his narration : 

“ In the morning we found everything right 
Totty again milked the cow, and we had breakfast. 
The flock was let out upon the grass, and so were 
the cow and the two horses. 

“Just about midday I began to think what we 
were to have for dinner, for the breakfast had cleared 
up everything. I did not like to kill another sheep, 
if it could be helped- So, bidding Jan and Triiey 
stay close by the wagon, and leaving Totty to look 
after the flock, I took my gun and started off in 
search of game. I took no horse, for I thought I 
saw springboks out on the plain ; and I would stalk 
them better a-foot. 

“ Sure enough, there were springboks. When I 
got out of the valley here, and had a better view, I 
saw what astonished me, I can assure you. 

“ I could scarce credit my eyes. The whole plain, 
towards the west, appeared to be one vast crowd of 
animals ; and, by their bright yellow sides, and the 
snow-white hair on their rumps, I knew they were 
springboks. They were all in motion, some brows- 
ing along, while hundreds of them were constantly 
bounding up into the air full ten feet high, and leaj* 
ing on top of each other. I assure you all it was 
one of the strangest sights I ever beheld, and one 
of the pleasantest too ; for I knew that the creatures 
that covered the plain, instead of being fierce wild 
beasts, were nothing but graceful and beautiful little 
gazelles. 


96 


THE TREK-BOKEN. 


“ My first thought was to get near them, and 
have a shot ; and I was about to start off over the 
plain, when I perceived that the antelopes were 
coming towards me. I saw that they were approach- 
ing with considerable rapidity ; and if I only re- 
mained where I was, they would save me the trouble 
of stalking in upon them. I lay down behind a bush, 
and waited. 

“ I had not very long to wait. In less than a 
quarter of an hour the foremost of the herd drew 
near, and in five minutes more a score of them were 
within shot. 

“ I did not fire for some time. I knew they would 
come still nearer, and I lay watching the motions 
of those pretty creatures. I took notice of their 
light, handsome forms, their smooth, slender limbs, 
their cinnamon-colored backs, and white bellies, with 
the band of chestnut along each side. I looked at 
the lyre-shaped horns of the bucks, and above all at 
the singular flaps on their croup, that unfolded each 
time that they leaped up, displaying a profusion of 
long, silky hair, as white as snow itself. 

“ All these points I noticed, and at length, tired 
of admiring them, I singled out a fine-looking doe — 
for I was thinking of my dinner, and knew that doe- 
venison was the most palatable. 

“ After aiming carefully, I fired. The doe fell, 
but, to my astonishment, the others did not fly off. 
A few of the foremost only galloped back a 1 it, or 
Bounded up into the air ; but they again set to 
browsing, quite unconcerned, and the main body 
advanced as before 


THE TREK-BO KEN. 


97 


"* 1 loaded as quickly as I could, a id brought 
down another, — tlis time a buck, but, as before, 
without frightening the rest. 

“ I proceeded to load for the third time ; but, 
before I had finished, the front ranks had passed on 
bolh sides of me, and I found myself in the midst 
of the herd. 

“ I saw no need for covering myself any longer 
behind the bush, but rose to my knees, and, firing 
at the nearest, brought it down also. Its comrades 
did not pause, but ran over its body in thousands. 

“ I loaded again, and stood right up on my feet. 

“ Now for the first time it occurred to me to re- 
flect on the strange conduct of the springboks ; for, 
instead of making off at my appearance, they only 
bounded a little to one side, and then kept on their 
course. They seemed possessed by some species of 
Infatuation. I remembered hearing that such was 
their way when upon one of their migrations, or 
trek-bokens/ This, then, thought I, must be a 
trek-boken/ 

“ I was soon convinced of this, for the herd every 
moment grew thicker and thicker around me, until 
at length they became so crowded that I began to 
feel very singularly situated. Not that I was afraid 
of the creatures, as they made no demonstration of 
using their horns upon me. On the contrary, they 
did all they could to get out of my way. But the 
nearest only were alarmed ; and, as my presence in 
no way terrified those that were a hundred yards off, 
the latter made no attempt to give ground Of course 
the nearest ones could only get a few pacts from met 
7 


98 


THE TREK- B0KEN. 


by pushing the others closer, or springing up over 
their backs — so that with the ones thus constantly 
bounding up into the air there was all the time a 
ring around me two deep. 

“ I cannot describe the strange feelings I had in 
this unusual situation, or how long I might have 
kept my place. Perhaps I might have loaded and 
fired away for some time, but just at the moment the 
sheep came into my mind. 

“ They ’ll be carried away, thought I. I had heard 
that such a thing was common enough. 

“ I saw that the antelopes were heading towards 
the valley ; the foremost were already into it, and 
would soon be on the spot where I had just seen 
our little flock feeding. 

“ In the hopes of yet heading the springboks, and 
driving the sheep into the kraal, before th v former 
crowded on them, I started towards the valley. 
But, to my chagrin, I could get no faster than the 
herd was going. 

“As I approached the creatures, to make my way 
through their mass, they leaped about and sprang 
over one another, but could not for their lives open 
a way for me as fast as I wanted one. I was so 
near some of them that I could have knocked them 
down with my gun. 

“I commenced hallooing, and, brandishing the 
gun about, I was making a lane more rapidly, when 
I perceived in front what appeared to be a large 
open space. I pushed forward for this, but the 
nearer I came to its border the more densely I found 
the creatures packed. I could only see that it waa 


T3E TREK-BOKEN 


99 


an open space by leaping up. I did not know what 
was causing it. I did not stay to reflect. I only 
wished to get forward as rapidly as possible, think- 
ing about our flock. 

“ I continued to clear my way, and at length 
found myself in the position I had coveted ; while 
the lane I had made in getting there closed instan- 
taneously behind me. I was about to rush on and 
take advantage of the bit of clear ground, when 
what should I see in the centre, and directly before 
me, but a great yellow lion ! 

“ That accounted for the break in the herd. Had 
I known what had been causing it, I should have 
fought my way in any other direction but that ; but 
there was I, out in the open ground, the lion not ten 
paces from me, and a fence of springboks two deep 
around both of us ! 

“ I need not say I was frightened, and badly too. 
I did not for some moments know how to act. My 
gun was still loaded — for, after thinking of saving 
our little flock, I did not care to empty it at the 
antelopes. I could get one, thought I, at any time, 
when I had secured the sheep in the kraal. The 
piece, therefore, was loaded, and with bullets. 

“ Should I take aim at the lion, and fire ? I asked 
myself this question, and was just on the point cf 
deciding in the affirmative, when I reflected that it 
would be imprudent. I observed that the lion, 
whose back was turned to me, had either not seen, 
or as yet took no notice of me. Should I only 
wound him, — and from the position he was in I was 


'00 


THE TREK-BOKEN. 


not likely do more, — how then? I would most 
likely be torn to pieces. 

“ These were my reflections, all of which scarce- 
occupied a second of time. I was about to ‘ back 
out ’ or back in among the springboks, and make my 
way in some other direction, and had even got neai 
the edge, when, in looking over my shoulder, I saw 
the lion suddenly halt and turn round. I halted too, 
knowing that to be the safest plan ; and, as I did so, 
I glanced back at the lion’s eyes. 

“ To my relief, I saw they were not upon me. He 
seemed to have taken some fancy in his head. His 
appetite, perhaps, had returned ; for the next mo- 
ment he ran a few yards, and then, rising with a 
terrific bound, launched himself far into the herd, 
and came down right upon the back of one of the 
antelopes. The others sprang right and left, and a 
new space was soon opened around him. 

“ He was now nearer than ever to where I stood, 
and I could see him distinctly crouched ovei his 
victim. His claws held its quivering body, and his 
long teeth grasped the poor creature by the neck. 
But, with the exception of his tail, he was making 
not the slightest motion ; and that vibrated gently 
from side to side, just as a kitten that had caught a 
tiny mouse. I could see, too, that his eyes were 
close shut, as though he were asleep. 

“Now, I had heard that under such circumstances 
the lion may be approached without much danger. 
Not that I wished to go any nearer, — for I was 
near enough for my gun,— but it was this recolleo 
tion, I believe, that put me in the notion of firing 


THE TREK-BOKEN. 


101 


At dll events, something wL.'spered me I would 
succeed, and I could not resist trying. 

“ The broad blind jaw of the brute was fair before 
me. I took aim, and pulled trigger ; but, instead of 
waiting to see the effect of my shot, I ran light ofl 
in an opposite direction. 

“ I did not halt till I had put several acres of 
antelopes between myself and the place where I had 
last stood ; and then I made the best of my way 
to the wagon. 

“ Long before I had reached it, I could see that 
Jan, and Triiey, and Totty, were safe under the tent. 
That gave me pleasure, but I also saw that the 
.sheep and goats had got mixed up with the spring- 
boks, and were moving off with them as if they 
belonged to the same species. I fear they are all 
lost.” 

“ And the lion ? ” inquired Hendrik. 

“Yonder he lies,” answered Hans, modestly 
pointing to a yellow mass out upon the plain, over 
which the vultures were already beginning to hover. 
“ Yonder he lies ; you could hardly have done it 
better yourself, brother Hendrik.” 

As Hans said this, he smiled in such a manner as 
to show that he had no idea of making a boast o* 
his achievements. , 

Hendrik was loud in acknowledging that it was a 
most splendid feat, and also in regretting that he had 
not been on the ground to witness the wonderful 
migration of the springboks. 

But t?nere was no time for much idle talk. Yon 
Bloom and his party were in a very unpleasanl 


102 


THE TREE-BOKEN. 


situation. His flocks weie all gone. The cow and 
horses alone remained ; and for these not a blade 
of grass had been left by the antelopes. Upon what 
were they to be fed ? 

To follow the spoor of the migratory springboks 
with the hope of recovering their flock, would be 
quite useless. Swartboy assured them of this. The 
poor animals might be carried hundreds of miles 
before they could separate themselves from the great 
herd, or bring their involuntary journey to an end. 

The horses could travel but little further. There 
was naught to feed them on but the leaves of the 
mimosas, and this was but poor food for hungry 
horses. It would be fortunate if they could be kept 
alive until they should reach some pasture ; and 
where now was pasture to be found ? Locusts and 
antelopes, between them, seemed to have turned all 
Africa into a desert. 

The field-comet soon formed his resolution. He 
would remain there for the night, and early on the 
morrow set out in search of some other spring. 

Fortunately Hans had not neglected to secure a 
brace of the springboks, and their fat venison now 
came into general use. A roast of that, and a drink 
of cool water from the spring, soon refreshed the 
three wearied travellers. 

The horses were let loose among the mimosa- trees, 
and allowed to shift for themselves ; and although 
under ordinary circumstances they would have 
“turnel up their noses ” at such food as mimosa- 
leaves, they nc w turned them up in a different 


THE TREK-BOKEN. 


103 


Bense, and cleared the thorny branches like so many 
giraffes. 

Some naturalist of the “ Buffon ” school has stated 
that neither wolf, fox, hyena, nor jackal, will eat the 
carcass of a lion, — that their fear of the royal* despot 
continues even after his death. 

The field-cornet and his family had proof of the 
want of truth in this assertion. Before many hours 
both jackals and hyenas attacked the carcass of the 
king of beasts, and in a very short while there was 
not a morsel of him there but his bones. Even his 
tawny skin was swallowed by these ravenous creat- 
ures, and many of the bones broken by the strong 
jaws of the hyenas. The respect which these brutes 
entertain for the lion ends with his life. When dead, 
he is eaten by them with as much audacity as if h« 
were the meanest of animals. 


104 


SPOORING FOR A SPRING 


CHAPTER XV. 

SPOORING FOR A SPRING 

Von Bloom was in the saddle at an early hour 
Swartboy accompanied him, while all the others 
remained by the wagon to await his return. They 
took with them the two horses that had remained by 
the wagon, as these were fresher than the others. 

They rode nearly due westward. They were 
induced to take this direction by observing that the 
springboks had come from the north. By heading 
westward they believed they would sooner get be- 
yond the wasted territory. 

To their great satisfaction, an hour’s travelling 
carried them clear of the track of the antelope mi- 
gration ; and although they found no water, there 
was excellent grass. 

The field-cornet now sent Swartboy back for the 
other horses and the cow, pointing out a place where 
he should bring them to graze, while he -himself 
continued on in search of water. 

After travelling some miles further, Vm Blcom 
perceived to the north of him a long line of cliff 
rising directly up from the plain, and running west- 
ward as far as he could see. Thinking that water 
would be more likely to be found near these cliffs, 
he turned his horse’s head towards them. As he 


RPOORING FOR A SPRING. 


105 


appro ached nearer to their base, he was charmed 
with the beautiful scenery that began to open before 
his eyes. He passed through grassy plains of differ* 
ent sizes, separated from each other by copses of 
the delicate-leaved mimosa ; some of these forming 
large thickets, while others consisted of only a fe^ 
low bushes. Towering high over the mimosas, grew 
many trees of gigantic size, and of a species Yon 
Bloom had never seen before. They stood thinly 
upon the ground ; but each, with its vast leafy head, 
seemed a little forest of itself. 

The whole country around had a soft, park-like 
appearance, which contrasted well with the dark 
cliff that rose beyond — the latter stepping up from 
the plain by a precipice of several hundred feet in 
height, and seemingly as vertical as the walls of a 
house. 

The fine landscape was gratifying to the eyes of 
the traveller — such a fine country in the midst of 
so much barrenness ; for he knew that most of the 
surrounding region was little better than a wild karoo. 
The whole of it to the north, for hundreds of miles, 
was a famous desert, — the desert of Kalihari, — and 
these cliffs were a part of its sotithern border. The 
“vee-boor” would have been rejoiced at such a 
sight under other circumstances. But what to rum 
now were all these fine pastures — now that he was 
no longer able to stock them ? 

Notwithstanding the beauty of the scene, hib 
reflections were painful. 

But lie did not give way to despair. His present 
troubles were sufficiently grievous t<? pre rent hire 


106 


SPOORING FOR A SPRING 


from dwelling much on the future. His first cars 
was to find a place where his horses might be re- 
cruited ; for without them he could no longer move 
anywhere — without them he would be helpless 
indeed. 

Water was the desired object. If water could 
not be found, all this beautiful park through which 
he was passing would be as valueless to him as the 
brown desert. 

Surely, so lovely a landscape could not exist with- 
out that most essential element. 

So thought the field-cornet ; and at the turning of 
every new grove his eyes wandered over the ground 
in search of it. 

“ Ho ! ” he joyfully exclaimed, as a covey of large 
Namaqua partridges whirred up from his path. “ A 
good sign that ; they are seldom far from water.” 

Shortly after, he saw a flock of beautiful pintados, 
or Guinea-hens, running into a copse. This was a 
still further proof that water was nigh. But, surest 
of all, on the top of a tall cameel-doom tree, he next 
observed the brilliant plumage of a parrot. 

“ Now,” muttered he, to himself, “ I must be very 
near to some spring or pool.” 

He rode cheerfully forward, and after a little while 
arrived upon the crest of an elevated ridge. Here 
he halted to observe the flight of the birds. 

Presently he noticed a covey of partridges flying 
in a westerly direction, and, shortly after, another 
covey going the same way. Both appeared to alight 
near a gigantic tree that grew in the plain, about five 
hundred yards from the bottom of the cliffs. This 


SPOORING FOR A SPRING. 107 

tree stood apart from any of the others, and was by 
far the largest Yon Bloom had yet seen. 

As he remained gazing at its wonderful dimen- 
sions, he observed several pairs of parrots alighting 
upon it. These, after chattering a while among it* 
branches, flew down upon the plain not far from its 
base. 

“Sureiy,” thought Yon Bloom, “ there must he 
water there. I shall ride forward and see.” 

But his horse had scarcely waited for him to form 
this design. The animal had been already dragging 
upon the bridle, and, as soon as his head was turned 
in the direction of the tree, he started forward with 
outstretched neck, snorting as he rushed along. 

The rider, trusting to the irfstinct of his horse, sur- 
rendered up the bridle, and in less than five minutes 
both horse and rider were drinking from the sweet 
water of a crystal fountain that gushed out within a 
dozen yards of the tree. 

The field-comet would now have hastened back to 
the wagon ; but he thought that by allowing his 
horse to browse an hour or so upon the grass, he 
would make the return journey with more spirit, and 
in quite as good time. He therefore took off the 
bridle, gave the animal his liberty, while he stretched 
himself under the shade of the great tree. 

As he lay, he could not help admiring the wonder 
fill production of nature that towered majestically 
above him. It was one of the largest trees he had 
ever beheld. It was of the kind known as the 
“nwana” tree, a species of ficus , with large, syca- 
more-shaped leaves, that grew thickly over its mag- 


108 


SPOORING FOR A SPRING. 


nificent head. Its trunk was full twenty feet in 
diameter, rising to more than that height without a 
branch, and then spreading off into numerous limbs, 
that stretched far out in a horizontal diiection. 
Through the thick foliage Yon Bloom could perceive 
shining egg-shaped fruits, as large as cocoa-nuts ; 
and upon these the parrots and several other kinds 
of birds appeared to be feeding. 

Other trees of the same species stood out upon the 
plain, at long distances apart, and, though they were 
all taller than the surrounding timber, none were so 
large or conspicuous as the one that grew by the 
spring. 

The field-comet, as he enjoyed the cool shade 
which its umbrageous frondage afforded, could not 
help thinking what an admirable spot it would be to 
build a kraal. The inmates of a dwelling placed be- 
neath its friendly shelter need never dread the fierce 
rays of the African sun ; even the rain could scarce 
penetrate its leafy canopy. In fact, its dense foliage 
almost constituted a roof of itself. 

Had his cattle still remained to him, no doubt the 
vee-boor would have resolved at once to make this 
spot his future home. But, tempting as it was, what 
now could he do in such a place ? To him it would 
be only a wilderness. There was no species of in- 
dustry he could follow in such a remote quarter 
True, he might sustain himself and his family by hunt 
ing. He saw that game was plenteous all around. 
But that would be but a sorry existence, with no 
promise for the future. What would his children do 
hereafter ? Were they to grow up w'th no other end 


SPOORING FOR A SPRING. 


109 


than to become poor hunters — no better than the 
wild Bushmen ? No, no, no ! To make a home there 
would be out of the question. A few days to recruit 
his wearied horses, and then he would make a strug- 
gle, and trek back to the settlements. 

But what after he had got back ? lie knew not 
what then. His future was gloomy and uncertain. 

After indulging in such reflections for an hour or 
more, he bethought him that it was time to return to 
the camp ; and, having caught and bridled his horse, 
he mounted and set forth. 

The animal, refreshed by the sweet grass and cool 
water, carried him briskly along, and in less than 
two hours he came up with Swartboy and Hendrik 
where they were pasturing the horses. 

These were taken back to the wagon, and har- 
nessed in, and then the great vehicle once more 
“treked ” across the plains. 

Before the sun had set, the long white cap-tent 
was gleaming imder the leafy screen of the gigantic 
'' nwana.” 


no 


THE TERRIBLE TSETSE 


CHAPTER XVI. 

THE TERRIBLE TSETSE. 

The verdant carpet that stretched away around 
them, the green leaves upon the trees, the flowers 
by the fountain, the crystal water in its bed, the 
black bold rocks towering up at a distance, — all 
combined to make a lovely picture. The eyes of the 
wayfarers were glad as they beheld it, and while the 
wagon was outspanning every one gave utterance 
to their delightful emotions. 

The place seemed to please every one. Hans 
loved its quiet and sylvan beauty. It was just such 
a place as he would choose to ramble in, book in 
hand, and dream away many a pleasant hour. Hen- 
drik liked it much, because he had already observed 
what he termed 11 extensive spoor ” about the spot. 
In other words, he had noticed the tracks of many 
of Africa’s largest wild animals. 

Little Triiey was delighted to see so many beauti- 
ful flowers. There were bright scarlet geraniums, 
and star-like sweet-scented jessamines, and the gor- 
geous belladonna lily, with its large blossoms of 
rose-color and white ; and there were not oifly plants 
in flower, but bushes, and even trees, covered with 
gaudy and sweetly-perfumed blossoms. There was 
the “ sugar-bush ” ( Protea mellifera ) the most beau 


THE TERRIBLE TSETSE. 


Ill 


liful of its family, with its large cup-shaped corollas 
of pink, white, and green ; and there, too, was the 
1 silver-tree ” ( Leucodendron argenteum), whose soft 
silvery leaves, playing in the breeze, looked like a 
huge mass of silken flowers ; and there were the 
mimosas, covered with blossoms of golden yellow, 
that filled the air with their strong and agreeable 
perfume. 

Rare forms of vegetation were around or near at 
hand : the arborescent aloes, with their tall flower- 
spikes of coral red, and euphorbias of many shapes ; 
and zamia, with its palm-like fronds ; and the soft- 
leaved Strelitzia regince. All these were observed in 
the neighborhood of this new-discovered fountain. 

But what received little Triiey’s admiration more 
than any other was the beautiful blue water-lily 
( Nympha coerulea), which is certainly one of the 
loveliest of Africa’s flowers. Close by the spring, 
but a little further in the direction of the plain, was a 
vley, or pool, — in fact, it might have been termed 
a small lake, — and upon the quiet bosom of its water 
the sky-blue corollas lay sleeping in all their gor- 
geous beauty. 

Triiey, leading her little pet in a string, had gone 
down on the bank to look at them. She thought she 
could never cease gazing at such pretty things. 

“ 1 hope papa will stay here a long time,” she said 
to hei companion, little Jan. 

“ And I hope so, too. 0, Triiey, what a fine tree 
yon is 1 Look ! nuts as big as my head, I declare 1 
Bless me, sis I hew are we to knock some of them 
down ? ” 


112 


THE TERRIBLE TSETSE. 


And so the children conversed, both delighted witfc 
the new scenes around them. 

Although all the young people were inclined to be 
happy, yet they were checked in their expression of 
it by observing that there was a cloud on the brow 
of their father. He had seated himself under the 
great tree, but his eyes were upon the ground, as 
though he were busy with painful reflections. All 
of them noticed this. 

His reflections were indeed painful ; they could 
not well have been otherwise. There was but one 
course left for him, — to return to the settlements, 
and begin life anew. But how to begin it ? What 
could he do ? His property all gone, he could only 
serve some of his richer neighbors ; and, for one 
accustomed all his life to independence, this would 
be hard indeed. 

He looked towards his five horses, now eagerly 
cropping the luxuriant grass that grew under the 
shadow of the cliffs. When would they be ready to 
trek back again ? In three or four days he might 
start. Fine animals most of them were ; they would 
carry the wagon lightly enough. 

So ran the reflections of the field-cornet. He little 
thought at the moment that those horses would 
never di aw wagon more, nor any other vehicle 1 
He little thought that those five noble brutes were 
doomed ! 

Yet so it was. In less than a week from that time 
the jackals and hyenas were quarrelling over theii 
bones. Even at that very moment, while he watched 
frheim browsing, the poison was entering their veins. 


THE TERRIBLE TSETSE. 


113 


And their death-wounds were being inflicted Alas ! 
alas ! another blow awaited Von Bloom. 

The field-cornet had noticed, now and again, that 
the horses seemed uneasy as they fed. At timed 
they started suddenly, whisked their long tails, and 
rubbed their heads against the bushes. 

“ Some fly is troubling them,” thought he, and 
had no more uneasiness about the matter. 

It was just that — just a fly that was troubling 
them. Had Von Bloom known what that fly was, he 
would have felt a very different concern about his 
horses. Had he known the nature of that little fly, 
he would have rushed up with all his boys, caught 
the horses in the greatest hurry, and led them far 
away from those dark cliffs. But he knew not the 
“ tsetse ” fly. 

It still wanted some minutes of sunset, and the 
horses were permitted to browse freely ; but Von 
Bloom observed that they were every moment get- 
ting more excited, now striking their hoofs upon the 
turf, now running a length or two, and at intervals 
snorting angrily. At the distance they were off, — 
a quarter of a mile or so, — Von Bloom could see 
nothing of what was disturbing them ; but their odd 
behavior at length induced him to walk up to where 
they were. Hans and Hendrik went along with him. 

When they arrived near the spot, they were as- 
tonished at what they then beheld. Each horse 
seemed to be encompassed by a swarm of bees. 

They saw, however, they were not bees, but m 
sects somewhat smaller, of a brown color, resembling 
gad-flies, and exceedingly active in their flight 
8 


114 


THE TERRIBLE TSETSE. 


Thousands of them hovered above each hoise, and 
hundreds could be seen lighting upon the heads, 
necks, bodies, and legs, of the animals, — in fact, all 
over them. They were evidently either biting or 
stinging them. No wonder the poor brutes were 
annoyed I 

Yon Bloom suggested that they should drive the 
horses further out into the plain, where these flies 
did not seem to haunt. He was only concerned 
about the annoyance which the horses received from 
them. Hendrik also pitied their sufferings ; but 
Hans alone, of all the three, guessed at the truth 
He had read of a fatal insect that frequented some 
districts in the interior of South Africa, and the first 
sight of these flies aroused his suspicions that it 
might be they. 

He communicated his thoughts to the others, who 
at once shared his alarm. 

“ Call Swartboy hither ! ” said Yon Bloom. 

The Bushman was called, and soon made his ap- 
pearance, coming up from the spring. He had for 
the last hour been engaged in unpacking the wagon, 
and had taken no notice of the horses or the interest 
they were exciting. 

As soon, however, as he got near, and saw the 
winged swarm whirring around the horses, his small 
eyes opened to their widest extent, his thick lips fell, 
and his whole face yielded itself to an expression of 
amazement and alarm. 

“ What is it, Swart ? ” inquired his master. 

“ Mein baas ! mein baas ! der duyvel um da — dai 
skellum is la ‘ tsetse * ! ” 


THE TERRIBLE TSETSE. 


m 

And what if it be the tsetse ?*” 
u Mein Gott ! all dead — dead — ebery horse ! ” 
Swartboy then proceeded to explain, with $ loud 
*nd continuous “ clicking,” that the fly which they 
saw was fatal in its bite ; that the horses would surely 
die, sooner or later, according to the number of 
stings they had already received ; but, from the 
swarm of insects around them, the Bushman had no 
doubt they had been badly stung, and a single week 
would see all five of the horses dead. 

“ Wait, mein baas ; morrow show.” 

And to-morrow did show ; for before twelve o’clock 
on the next day the horses were swollen all over 
their bodies and about their heads. Their eyes were 
quite closed up ; they refused any longer to eat, but 
staggered blindly among the luxuriant grass, every 
now and then expressing the pain they felt by a low, 
melancholy whimpering. It was plain to every one 
they were going to die. 

Yon Bloom tried bleeding, and various other rem- 
edies ; but to no purpose. There is no jure for the 
bite the tsetse fly. 


16 


THE LONG-HORNED RHINOCEROS. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

THE LONG-HORNED RHINOCEROS. 

Great indeed was now the affliction of the field 
cornet. Fortune seemed to be adverse in everything. 
Step by step he had been sinking for years, every 
year becoming poorer in worldly wealth. He had 
now reached the lowest point — poverty itself. He 
owned nothing whatever. His horses might be re- 
garded as dead. The cow had escaped from the 
tsetse by avoiding the cliffs, and keeping out upon 
the plain ; and this animal now constituted his whole 
live-stock — his whole property 1 True, he still had 
his fine wagon ; but of what use would that be with- 
out either oxen or horses ? — A wagon without a 
team ! Better a team without a wagon. 

What could he do ? How was he to escape from 
the position he was placed in ? To say the least, it 
was an awkward one, — nearly two hundred miles 
from any civilized settlement, and no means of get- 
ting there — no means except by walking ; and how 
were his children to walk two hundred miles ? Im< 
possible ! 

Across desert tracts, exposed not only to terrible 
fatigue, but to hunger, thirst, and fierce carnivorous 
animals ; — it appeared impossible that they could ao 
complish such a task 


% 




























THE LONG-HORNED RHINOCEROS. Ill 

And what else was there to be done ? asked the. 
field-cornet of himself. Were they to remain there 
all their lives, subsisting precariously on game and 
roots ? Were his children to become “ Bush-boys,” 
— himself a Bushman ? 

With these reflections passing through his mind, 
no wonder that Von Bloom felt deeply afflicted. 

“ Merciful Heaven ! ” he exclaimed, as he sat with 
his head between his hands, “ what will become of 
me and mine ? ” 

Poor Von Bloom ! he had reached the lowest point 
of his fortunes. 

He had, in reality, reached the lowest point ; for on 
that very day, even within that very hour, an inci- 
dent occurred that not only gave relief to his afflicted 
spirit, but that promised to lay the foundation of 
future wealth and prosperity. In one hour from that 
time the prospects of the field-cornet had undergone 
a complete change ; in one hour from that time he 
was a happy man, and all around him were as happy 
as he ! 

You are impatient to hear how this change was 
effected ? What little fairy had sprung out of the 
spring, or come down from the cliffs, to befriend the 
good field-cornet in his hour of misery ? You are 
impatient to hear? Then you shall hear. 

The sun was just going down. They were ail 
seated under the great tree, and near a fire, upon 
which they had cooked their supper. There was no 
talking, no cheerful conversation, — for the children 
saw that their father was in trouble, and that kept 

K 


118 


THE LONG-HORNED RHINOCEROS 


them silent. Not a word passed between them, oi 
only an occasional whisper. 

It was at this moment that Von Bloom gave utter- 
ance to his sad thoughts in words as above. 

As if seeking for an answer, his eyes were raised 
to heaven, and then wandered around the plain. All 
at once they became fixed upon a singular object that 
appeared at some distance off, and was just emerging 
from the bushes. 

It was an animal of some kind, and from its vast size 
Von Bloom and the others at first took it to be an ele- 
phant. None of them, except Swartboy, were accus- 
tomed to elephants in their wild state ; for, although 
these animals once inhabited the most southerly por- 
tions of Africa, they have long since deserted the 
settled districts, and are now only to be found far 
beyond the frontier of the colony. But they knew 
that there were elephants in these parts, as they had 
already observed their tracks, and all now supposed 
the huge creature that was approaching must be one. 

Not all ; Swartboy was an exception. As soon as 
his eyes fell upon the animal, he cried out, 

“ Chukuroo — a chukuroo ! ” 

“A rhinoster, is it? ” said Von Bloom, knowing 
that “ chukuroo ” was the native name for the rhi- 
noceros, or “ rhinoster,” as he called it in Dutch. 

“ Ya, baas,” replied Swartboy ; “ and one o’ da 
big karles — da ‘ kobaoba/ da long-horn white rhi- 
noster.” 

What Swartboy meant by this was that the animal 
in question was a large species of rhinoceros, known 
among the natives as'the “kobaoba.” 


THE LONG-HORNED RHINOCEROS. ]1S 

Now, I dare say, young reader, you have been all 
your life under the impression that there was but one 
species of rhinoceros in the world — that is, the 
rhinoceros. Is it not so ? Yes. 

Well, permit me to inform you that you have been 
under a wrong impression. There are quite a num- 
ber of distinct species of this very singular animal 
At ieasl eight distinct kinds I know of ; and I do not 
hesitate to say that when the central parts of Africa 
have been fully explored, as well as South Asia and 
the Asiatic islands, nearly half as many more will be 
found to exist. 

In South Africa four distinct species are well 
known ; one in North Africa differs from all these ; 
while the large Indian rhinoceros bears but slight 
resemblance to any of them. A distinct species 
from any is the rhinoceros of Sumatra, an inhabitant 
of that island ; and still another is the Java rhinoce- 
ros, found on the island of Java. Thus we have no 
less than eight kinds, all specifically differing from 
one another. 

The best known in museums, zoological collec- 
tions, and pictures, is perhaps the Indian animal. It 
is the one marked by the singular foldings of its 
skin, thickly embellished with protuberances or 
knobs, that give it a shield-like appearance. This 
distinguishes it from the African species, all of which 
are without these knobs, though the hides of some 
are knotty or warty. The Abyssinian rhinoceros has 
also foldings of the skin, which approach it some- 
what to the character of the Indian species. Both 
the Sumatra and Java kinds are small compared with 


120 


THE LONG-HORNED RHINOCEROS. 


their huge cousin the Indian rhinoceros, which in 
habits only continental India, Siam, and Cochin 
China. 

The Javan species more resembles the Indian, in 
having scutellae ovei the skin, and being one-horned. 
It is, however, without the singular folds which 
characterize the latter. That of Sumatra has neither 
folds nor scutellae. Its skin has a slight covering ol 
hair, and a pair of horns gives it some resemblance 
tc the two-homed species of Africa. 

The natives of South Africa are acquainted with 
four distinct species of rhinoceros, to which they 
give distinct names ; and it may be remarked that 
this observation of species by native hunters is far 
more to be depended upon than the speculations of 
mere closet-naturalists, who draw their deductions 
from a tubercle, or the tooth, or a stuffed skin. If 
there be any value in a knowledge of animated na- 
ture, it is not to these we are indebted for that 
knowledge, but far oftener to the “ rude hunters ’’ 
whom they affect to despise, and who, after all, hav# 
taught us pretty much all we know of the habits of 
animals. Such a “rude hunter ” as Gordon Cum- 
ming, for example, has done more to increase the 
knowledge of African zoology than a urhole college 
full of “speculating” savans. 

This same Gordon Cumming, who has been accused 
of exaggeration (but in my opinion very wrongfully 
accused), has written a very modest and truthful 
book, which tells you that there are four kinds of 
rhinoceros in Southern Africa ; and no man is likely 
to know better than he. 


THE LONG-HORNED RHINOCEROS. 


121 


These four kinds are known among the natives as 
the “borele,” the “ keitloa,” the “ muchocho,” and 
“ kobaoba ” The two first are “ black rhinoceroses,’ ’ 
— that is, the general color of their skin is dark, — • 
.vhile the “ muchocho ” and ‘‘kobaoba” are wliite 
varieties, having the skin of a dingy-whitish hue. 
The black rhinoceroses are much smaller, — scarce 
half the size of the others, — and they differ from them 
in the length and set of their horns, as well as in 
other particulars. 

The horns of the “ borele ” are placed, as in all 
rhinoceroses, upon a bony mass over the nostrils ; 
hence the word “rhinoceros (g‘V, the nose x-egus, a 
horn). 

In the “ borele ” they stand erect, curving slightly 
backwards, and one behind the other. The anterior 
horn is the longer, rarely above eighteen inches in 
length ; but it is often broken or rubbed shorter, and 
in no two individuals is there equality in this respect. 
The posterior horn in this species is only .a sort of 
knob ; whereas in the “ keitloa,” or two-horned 
clack rhinoceros, both horns are developed to a nearly 
equal length. 

In the “ muchocho ” and “ kobaoba ” the after 
horns can hardly be said to exist, but the anterior 
one in both species far exceeds in length those of 
the borele and keitloa. In the muchocho it is fre- 
quently three feet in length ; while the kobaoba is 
often seen with a horn four feet long jutting out 
from the end of its ugly snout — a fearful weapon ! 

The horns of the last two do not curve back, but 
point forward ; and as both these carry their head* 


122 


THE LONG-HORNED RHINOCEROS. 


lew down, the long, sharp spike is often bea^e nort 
zontally. In the form and length of their neck, th« 
set of their ears, and other respects, the black rhi- 
noceroses differ materially from the white ones. In 
fact, their habits are quite unlike. The former feed 
chiefly on the leaves and twigs of thorns, such as the 
Acacia horrida, or “ wait-a-bits,” while the latter live 
upon grass. The former are of fiercer disposition — • 
will attack man or any other animal on sight, and 
even sometimes seem to grow angry with the bushes, 
charging upon them, and breaking them to pieces. 

The white rhinoceroses, although fierce enough 
when wounded or provoked, are usually of pacific 
disposition, and will permit the hunter to pass with- 
out molestation. 

These become very fat, and make excellent eating. 
The flesh of no African animal is esteemed superior 
to the calf of the white rhinoceros ; whereas the black 
varieties never grow fat, and their flesh is tough and 
unpalatable. 

The horns of all four are used by the natives for 
many purposes, being solid, of fine texture, and sus 
ceptible of a high polish. Out of the longer horns 
the natives manufacture " knob-kerries ” (clubs), and 
loading-rods for their guns. The shorter ones afford 
material for mallets, drinking-cups, handles for small 
tools, and the like. In Abyssinia, and other parts 
of Northern Africa, where swords are in use, sword- 
hilts are made from the horns of the rhinoceros. 

The hide is also used for different purposes ; among 
others, for making the whips known as sjamboks/’ 
though hippopetamus-hide is superior 


THE LONG-HORNED RHINOCEROS. 


123 


The skin of the African rhinoceros, as already 
stated, is without the plaits, folds, and scutellae, that 
characterize its Asiatic congener ; yet it is far from 
being a soft one. It is so thick and difficult to 
pierce, that a bullet of ordinary lead will sometimes 
flatten upon it. To insure its penetrating, the lead 
must be hardened with solder. 

The rhinoceros, though not a water animal, like 
the hippopotamus, is nevertheless fond of that ele- 
ment, and is rarely found at a great distance from it. 
All four kinds love to lie and wallow in mud, just as 
hogs in a summer’s day, and they are usually seen 
coated all over with this substance. During the day 
they may be observed lying down or standing under 
the shade of some thick mimosa-tree, either asleep 
or in a state of easy indolence ; and it is during the 
night that they wander about in search of food and 
water. If approached from the lee side, they can 
easily be got at, as their small sparkling eyes do not 
serve them well. On the contrary, if the hunter go 
to windward, they will scent him at a great distance, 
as their sense of smell is most acute. If their eyes 
were only as keen as their nostrils, it would be a 
dangerous game to attack them, for they can run with 
sufficient rapidity to overtake a horse in the first 
charge. 

In charging and running the black variety far 
excels the white. They are easily avoided, however, 
by the Hunter springing quickly to one side, and let- 
ting them rush blindly on. 

The black rhinoceros is about six feet high at the 
shoulder, and full thirteen in length ; while the whit* 


124 


THE LONG-HORNED RHINOCEROS. 


kinds are far larger. The “kobaoba” is full se*en 
feet high, and fourteen in length 

No wonder that an animal of these extraordinary 
dimensions was at first sight taken for the elephant. 
In fact, the kobaoba rhinoceros is the quadruped 
next to the elephant in size, and, with his great muz- 
zle, — full eighteen inches broad, — his long, clumsy 
head, his vast, ponderous body, this animal impresses 
one with an idea of strength and massive grandeur 
as great, and some say greater, than the elephant 
himself. He looks, indeed, like a caricature of the 
elephant. It was not such a bad mistake, then, 
when our people by the wagon took the “ kobaoba ” 
for the “ mighty elephant.” 

Swartboy, however, set them all right by declaring 
that the animal they saw was the white rhinoceros. 


A HEAVY COMBAT. 


125 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

A HEAVY COMBAT. 

When they first saw the kobaoba, he was, as stated, 
just coming out of the thicket. Without halting, he 
headed in the direction of the vley already men- 
tioned, and kept on towards it, his object evidently 
being to reach the water. 

This little lake, of course, owed its existence to 
the spring, though it was full two hundred yards 
from the latter, and about the same from the great 
tree. In was nearly circular in shape, and about one 
hundred yards in diameter, ^o that its superficial area 
would thus be a little over two English acres. It 
merited, then, the name of “ lake,” and by that name 
the young people already called it. 

On its upper side — that in the direction of the 
spring — its shore was high, and in one or two places 
rocky, and these rocks ran back to the spring along 
the channel of a little rivulet. On the west or outer 
side of the lake the land lay lower, and the water at 
one or two points lipped up nearly to the level of the 
plain For this reason it was that upon that side 
the bank was paddled all over with tracks of animals 
that had been to drink. Hendrik, the hunter, had 
observed among them the footprints of many kinds 
he knew nothing about. 


m 


A HEAVY COMBAT 


It was for the lower end of the lake the kobaoba 
was making — no doubt with him an old and favorite 
drinking-place. 

There was a point where the water was easier of 
access than elsewhere, — a little to one side of where 
the wash or waste-stream of the lake ran out. It 
was a sort of cove, with bright sandy beach, and ap- 
proachable from the plain by a miniature gorge, hol- 
lowed out, no doubt, by the long usage of those 
animals who came to drink at the vley. By enter- 
ing this cove, the tallest animals might get deep 
water and good bottom, so that they could drink 
without much straining or stooping. The kobaoba 
came on in a direct line for the lake, and as he 
drew near they could see him heading for the gorge 
that led into the little cove. It proved he had been 
there before. 

Next moment he passed through the gap, and stood 
knee-deep in the water. 

After swallowing several copious draughts — now 
sneezing, and then wheezing — he plunged his 
broad snout, horn and all, into the water, tossed it 
till it foamed, and then, lying down in it, commenced 
wallowing like a hog. 

The place was shallow, and most of his huge body 
was above the surface, though there was deep enough 
water in the lake to have given him a bath had he 
desired it. 

The first thought of Yon Bloom, as well as of 
Hendrik, was how to “ circumvent” the rhinoceros, 
and of course destroy him. Not that they simply 
wished his destrvction, but Swartboy had already 


A HEAVY COMBAT 


121 


represented what fine food the species was, and there 
was no stock of provision in camp. Hendrik had 
another object in wishing the death of the creature. 
He wanted a new loading-rod for his rifle, and he had 
gazed covetously at the kobaoba’s long horn. 

But it was easier to desire the death of the rhinoc- 
eros than to accomplish it. They had no horses, — 
at least, none that could be mounted, — and to attack 
the animal on foot would be a game as dangerous as 
idle. He would be like enough to impale one of 
them on his great spike, or else trample them brutally 
under his huge feet. If he did not do one or the 
other, he would easily make his escape, as any kind 
of rhinoceros can outrun a man. 

How were they to manage him, then ? 

Perhaps they might get near, fire at him from an 
ambush, and with a lucky shot stretch him out A 
single bullet sometimes kills the rhinoceros, but only 
when correctly placed, so as to penetrate the heart, 
or some other of the “ vitals.” 

This was, probably, the best plan. They might 
easily get near enough. There was some bush cover 
close to the spot. It was probable the old kobaoba 
would not perceive them if they approached from 
eeward, particularly as he seemed in the full tide of 
enjoyment at that moment. 

They were about to attempt the approach, and had 
got to their feet for that purpose, when a sudden fit 
seemed to have attacked Swartboy. The latter com- 
menced jumping o 7er the grc nnd, at the same time 
muttering, in a low voice, 

“ Da klow ! da klow ! ; ’ 


128 


A HEAVY COMBAT 


A stranger would have fancied Swartboy in a tit , 
but Von Bloom knew that by “ Da klow 1 da klow ! 9 
the Bushman meant “ The elephant ! the elephant ! 1 
and therefore looked in the direction in which Swart 
boy was pointing. 

Sure enough, upon the western plain, looming uj 
against the yellow sky, was a dark mass, that upoi 
examination presented the outlines of an elephant 
Its rounded back was easily distinguished over the 
low bushes, and its broad hanging ears were moving 
as it marched. All saw, at a glance, that it was 
coming towards the lake, and almost in th^ same track 
that the rhinoceros had taken. 

Of course this new apparition quite cVvtar ranged 
the plans of the hunters. At sight of th« mighty 
elephant, they scarce any longer gave a ought to 
the kobaoba. Not that they had formed any veiy 
great hopes of being able to kill the giganth* animal 
yet some such thought was running throvgh their 
minds. They had determined to try, at all events. 

Before they could agree upon any plan, however, 
the elephant had got up to the edge of the lake. 
Though moving only at a slow walk, with his im- 
mense strides he soon measured off a large quantit* 
of ground, and advanced much more rapidly than on#i 
would have supposed. The hunters had scarce time 
to exchange thoughts before the huge creature wa« 
up within a few yards of the water. 

Ilere he halted, pointed his proboscis in differed 
directions, stood quite silent, and seemed to listen. 

There was no noise to disturb him ; even the kc 
baoba for the moment was quiet. 


A HEAVY COMBAT. 


129 


Aftei standing a minute or so, the Luge creature 
moved forward again, and entered the gorge already 
described. 

They at the camp had now a full view <ff him, at 
less than three hundred yards’ distance. An immense 
mass he seemed. His body quite filled the gorge 
from side to side, and his long yellow tusks, project 
ing more than two yards from his jaws, curved grace 
fully upward. He was an “ old bull,” as Swartboy 
whispered. 

Up to this time the rhinoceros had not had the 
slightest intimation of the elephant’s approach ; for 
the tread of the latter, big beast as he is, is as silent 
as a cat’s. It is true that a loud rumbling noise, like 
distant thunder, proceeded from his inside as he 
moved along ; but the kobaoba was in too high a 
caper, just then, to have heard or noticed any sound 
that was not very near and distinct. 

The huge body of the elephant coming suddenly 
into “ his sunshine,” and flinging its dark shadov 
over the vley, was distinct enough, and caused th« 
kobaoba to get to his feet with an agility quite sur 
prising for a creature of his build. 

At the same time a noise something between a 
grunt and a whistle escaped him, as the water waa 
ejected from his nostrils. 

The elephant also uttered his peculiar salute, in a 
ti umpet-note that echoed from the cliffs, and halted 
in his tracks as soon as he saw the rhinoceros. 

No doubt both were surprised at the rencontre, as 
both stood for some seconds eying each other with 
apparent astonishment. 

9 


ISO 


A HEAVY COMBAT. 


This, however, soon gave place to a different feel 
ing. Symptoms of anger began to show themselves 
It was evident that bad blood was brewing between 
them. 

There was, in fact, a little dilemma. The elephant 
could not get comfortably at the water unless the 
rhinoceros left the cove ; and the rhinoceros could 
not well get out of the cove, so long as the elephant 
blocked up the gorge with his immense thick limbs. 

It is true the kobaoba might have sneaked through 
among the other’s legs, or he might have swum off 
and landed at some other point, and in either way 
have left the coast clear. 

But, of all animals in the world, a rhinoceros is, 
perhaps, the most unaccommodating. He is, also, 
one of the most fearless, dreading neither man nor 
beast, — not even the boasted lion, whom he often 
chases like a cat. Hence the old kobaoba had no 
intention of yielding ground to the elephant ; and, 
from his attitude, it was plain that he neither in- 
tended to sneak off under the other’s belly, nor 
swim a single stroke for him. No, not a stroke. 

It remained to be seen how the point of honor was 
to be decided. The attitude of affairs had become 
so interesting that every one by the camp was gazing 
with fixed eyes upon the two great bulls — for the 
rhinoceros was also a “ bull,” and of the largest size 
known of his kind. 

For several minutes they stood eying each other. 
The elephant, although much the larger, knew his 
antagonist well. He had met his “sort” before, 
and knew better than to despise his powers. Per 


A HEAVY COMBAT. 


131 


baps, ere now, he had had a touch of that long, spit 
like excrescence that stood out from the kobaoba’s 
snout. 

At all events, he did not rush upon his adversary 
at once, as he would have done on some poor ante- 
lope that might have crossed him in the same way. 

His patience, however, became exhausted. His 
ancient dignity was insulted, his rule disputed ; he 
wished to have his bath and his drink, — he could 
bear the insolence of the rhinoceros no longer. 

With a bellow that made the rocks ring again, he 
charged forward, placed his tusks firmly under the 
shoulder of his adversary, gave a mighty “lift,” and 
turned the rhinoceros over in the water. 

For a moment the latter plunged, and blowed, and 
snorted, his head half under watery but in a second’s 
time he was on his feet again, and charging in turn. 
The spectators could see that he aimed right at the 
elephant’s ribs with his horn, and that the latter did 
ill he could to keep head towards him. 

Again the elephant flung the kobaoba, and again 
the latter rose and charged madly upon his huge 
antagonist ; and so both fought, until the water 
around them was white with foam. 

The contest was carried on in the water, until the 
elephant, seeming to think his adversary had an ad- 
vantage there, backed himself into the gorge, and 
stood waiting with his head towards the lake. In 
this position the sides of the gorge did not protect 
him, as perhaps he fancied. They were too low, 
and his broad flanks rose far above them. They 


132 


A HEAVY COMBAT 


only kept him from turning round, and this interfered 
with the freedom of his movements. 

It could scarce have been design in the rhinoceros 
to act as he now did, though it appeared so to those 
who were watching. As the elephant took up his 
position in the gorge, the kobaoba clambered out 
upon the bank ; and then, wheeling suddenly, with 
head to the ground and long horn projected horizon 
laxly, the latter rushed upon his antagonist and 
struck him right among the ribs. The spectators 
saw that the horn penetrated, and the loud scream 
that came from the elephant, with the quick motions 
of his trunk and tail, told plainly that he had received 
a severe wound. Instead of standing any longer in 
the gorge, he rushed forward, and did not stop until 
he was knee-deep in the lake. Drawing the water 
up into his trunk, he raised it on high, and, pointing 
it backwards, he discharged large volumes over his 
body, and upon the spot where he had received the 
thrust of the kobaoba’s horn. 

He then ran out of the lake, and charged about in 
search of the rhinoceros ; but long-horn was no longer 
to be found ! 

Having escaped from the cove without comprom- 
ising his dignity, and, perhaps, believing that he had 
gained the victory, the rhinoceros, as soon as he 
delivered the thrust, had galloped off and disappeared 
among the bushes. 


THE DEATH OF THE ELEPHANT 


133 


CHAPTER XIX. 

THE DEATH OF THE ELEPHANT. 

The battle between these two large quadrupeds 
did not continue for more than ten minutes. During 
that time the hunters made no advance towards 
attacking either of them, so much absorbed were 
they in watching the novel contest. It was only 
after the rhinoceros had retreated, and the elephant 
returned to the water, that they once more began to 
deliberate on some plan of assaulting this mightiest 
of African animals. Hans now laid hold of his gun 
and joined them. 

The elephant, after looking about for his enemy, 
uad got back, and was standing knee-deep in the 
lake. He appeared restless, and highly excited. His 
tail was continually in motion, and at intervals he 
uttered a piercing, melancholy scream, far different 
to the usual trumpet-like bellow of his voice. He 
lifted his huge limbs, and then plunged them back 
again to the bottom, until the foam gathered upon 
tne water with his continued churning. 

But the oddest of his actions was the manner in 
which he employed his long tubular trunk With 
this he sucked up vast volumes of water, and then 
pointing it backwards, ejected the fluid over his back 
and shoulders, as if from an immense syringe. This 

L 


134 


THE DEATH OF THE ELEPHANT. 


shower-bath he kept repeating, time after time, 
though it was evident he was not at his ease. 

They all knew he was angry. Swartboy said it 
would be exceedingly dangerous to be seen by him 
at that moment, without having a horse to gallop 
out of his way. On this account every one of them 
had concealed themselves behind the trunk of the 
nwana-tree, Yon Bloom peeping past one side, and 
Hendrik the other, in order to watch his movements 

Notwithstanding the danger, they at length re^ 
solved to attack him. They believed that if they 
did not do so soon, he would walk off and leave them 
supperless, for they had hoped to sup upon a slice 
of his trunk. Time, therefore, had grown precious, 
and they resolved to attack him without further ado. 

They intended to creep as near as was safe. All 
three would fire together, and then lie close in the 
bushes until they saw the effect of their shots. 

Without further parley, Yon Bloom, Hans, and 
Hendrik, leaving the tree, crept through the bushes 
towards the western end of the lake. It was not a 
continuous thicket, but only an assemblage of copses 
and clumps, so that they required to steal very cau- 
tiously from one to the other. Yon Bloom led the 
way, while the boys kept in his tracks, following 
him closely. 

After some five minutes spent in this way, they 
got under cover of a little clump near the water’s 
edge, and near enough to the gigantic game. Upon 
their hands and knees they now approached the 
verge of the underwood ; and, having parted the 
leaves, locked through. The mighty quadruped 


THE DEATH OF THE ELEPHANT 


135 


was right under their eyes, within twenty yards of 
them ! 

He was still busy plunging about, and blowing 
volumes of water over his body. He gave no sign 
that he had any suspicion of their presence. They 
could take time, therefore, in choosing a part of his 
huge body at which to aim their pieces. 

When first seen from their new position, he was 
standing stern towards them. Yon Bloom did not 
think it a good time to fire, as they could not give 
him a deadly wound in tjaat situation. They waited, 
therefore, until he might turn his side, before they 
should deliver their volley. They kept their eyes 
all the while steadily fixed on him. 

He ceased at length to “ churn ” with his feet, 
and no longer raised water in his trunk; and now 
the hunters perceived that the lake was red for a 
space around him. It was his blood that had red- 
dened it. 

They no longer doubted that he had been wounded 
by the rhinoceros ; but whether the wound was a 
bad one they could not tell. It was in his side, and 
as yet they could only see his broad stern from the 
position in which he still continued to stand. But they 
waited with confidence, as they knew that in turning 
to get out of the water he would have to present his 
side towards them. 

For several minutes he kept the same position : 
but they noticed that his tail no longer switched 
about, and that his attitude was loose and drooping. 
Now and then he turned his proboscis to the spot 
where he had received the thrust of thekobacba'a 


136 


THE uEATH OF THE ELEPHANT. 


horn. It was evident that the wound was distress* 
ing him, and this became more apparent by the loud, 
painful breathing the creature uttered through his 
trunk. 

The three began to grow impatient. Hendrik 
asked leave to creep round to another point, and 
give him a shot that would turn him round. 

Just at that moment the elephant made a motion, 
as though he was about to come out of the water. 

He had got fairly round, his head and forepart 
vere over dry land, the three guns were pointed, 
the eyes of the three hunters were about to glance 
through the sights of their pieces, when all at once 
he was seen to rock and stagger, and then roll over ! 
With a loud plash, his vast body subsided into the 
water, sending great waves to every corner of thf 
lake. 

The hunters uncocked their guns, and, springing 
from their ambush, rushed forward to the bank 
They saw at a glance that the elephant was dead 
They saw the wound upon his side, the hole made 
by the horn of the rhinoceros.' It was not very large, 
but the terrible weapon had penetrated far into his 
body, into his very vitals. No wonder, then, at the 
result it had produced — the death of the mightiest 
of quadrupeds. 

As soon as it became known that the elephant was 
dead everybody was seen rushing forward to the 
Bpot. Little Triiey and Jan were called from theii 
hiding-place, — for they had both been hidden in the 
wagon, — and Totty, too, went down with the rest. 
Swartboy was one of the first upon the spot, carry 


THE DEi-ra OF THE ELEPHANT. 


137 


ing an axe and a large knife, — for Swartboy had 
designs upon the carcass, — while Hans and Hen- 
drik both threw off their jackets to assist in the 
butchering operations. 

And what during this time was Von Bloom about? 
Ha 1 That is a more important question than you 
think for. That was an important hour, — the hour 
of a great crisis in the life of the field-cornet. 

He was standing, with folded arms, on the bank 
of the lake, directly over the spot where the ele- 
phant had fallen. He appeared to be wrapt in silent 
meditation, his eyes bent upon the huge carcass of 
the animal. No, not on the carcass. A close ob- 
server would have perceived that his eyes did not 
wander over that mountain of thick skin and flesh, 
but were resting upon a particular spot. 

Was it the wound in the animal's side ? And was 
Von Bloom meditating how the thrust had caused 
the death of such a huge creature ? 

Neither one nor the other. His thoughts were 
upon a very different theme from either. 

The elephant had fallen so that his head was clear 
of the water, and rested upon a little bank of sand, 
along which his soft and limber trunk lay extended 
to its full length. Curving like a pair of gigantic 
scimeters from its base, were the yellow enamelled 
tusks ; those ivory arms that for years — ay, centuries, 
perhaps — had served him to root up the trees of the 
forest, and rout his antagonists in many a dread 
encounter. Precious and beautiful trophies were 
they ; but, alas ! their world-wide fame had cost no 
less than life to many thousands of his race. 


*38 


THE DEATH OF THE ELEPHANT. 


Shining in all their magnificence lay these mated 
crescents, gently curved and softly rounded. It 
was upon these that the eyes of the field-cornet were 
bent. 

Ay, and bent, too, with an eagerness unusual in 
his glance. His lips were compressed, his chest 
was visibly heaving. 0, there was a world of 
thoughts passing through the mind of Von Bloom at 
that moment. 

Were they painful thoughts ? The expression of 
his face told the contrary. The cloud that all that 
day sat perched upon his brow had vanished. Not 
a trace of it remained ; but in its place could be 
seen the lines of hope and joy, and these feelings at 
length found expression in words. 

“ It is the hand of Heaven ! ” he exclaimed, aloud. 
u A fortune, a fortune ! ” 

“What is it, papa?” inquired little Triiey, whc 
was near him ; f* what were you speaking about, 
dear papa ? ” 

And then all the others gathered around him, 
noticing his excited manner, and pleased at seeing 
him look so happy. 

“ What is it, papa ? ” asked all together, while 
Swartboy and Totty stood eager as the rest to heai 
the answer. 

In the pleasant excitement of his thoughts, the 
fond father could no longer conceal from his children 
the secret of his new-born happiness. He would 
gratify them by disclosing it. 

Pointing to the long crescents, he said, 

“ Yo^. see those beautiful tusks ? ” 


THE DEATH OF THE ELEPHANT. 


139 


Yes, of course, they all did. 

“ Well, do you know their value ? " 

No. They knew they were worth something. They 
knew that it was from elephants' tusks that ivory was 
obtained, or, more properly, that elephants' tusks 
were ivory itself ; and that it was used in the manu- 
facture of hundreds of articles. In fact, little Triiey 
nad a beautiful fan made out of it, which had been 
Her mother's ; and Jan had a knife with an ivory 
handle. Ivory was a very beautiful material, and 
cost very dear, they knew. All this they knew, but 
tne value of the two tusks they could not guess at 
They said so. 

“ Well, my children," said Yon Bloom, “as near 
as I can estimate them, they are worth twenty 
pounds each of English money." 

“ 0 ! 0 ! Such a grand sum ! " cried all in a 
breath. 

“Yes," continued the field-cornet; “I should 
think each tusk is one hundred pounds in weight ; 
and as ivory at present sells for four shillings and 
sixpence the pound weight, these two would yield 
between forty and fifty pounds of sterling money." 

“ Why, it would buy a full span of best oxen I " 
cried Hans. 

“ Four good horses ! " said Hendrik. 

, ; A whole flock of sheep ! " added little Jan. 

“ But whom can we sell them to ? " nsked Hen- 
drik, after a pause. “ We are away from the settle- 
ments. Who is to give us either oxen, or horses, 
or sheep, for them ? It would not be worth while to 
carry two tusks all the way " 


40 


TBiii DEATH OF THE ELEPHANT. 


“ Not two , Hendrik,” said his father, interruptiDg 
aim; “but twenty it might, — ay, twice twenty, or 
three times that number. Now do you understand 
what makes me so gay ? ” 

“ 0 1 ” exclaimed Hendrik, as well as the others, 
who now began to perceive what their father was so 
joyed about, “you think we can obtain more tusks 
in these parts ? ” 

“ Precisely so. I think there are many elephants 
here. I feel certain of it from the quantity of their 
spoor I have already noticed. We have our guns, 
and, fortunately, plenty of ammunition. We are all 
pretty fair shots ; why can we not obtain more of 
these valuable trophies ? 

“ But we shall, ” continued Von Bloom. “ I know 
we shall, because I recognize the hand of God in 
sending us thh wealth in the midst of our misery, 
after we had lost everything. More will come by 
the guiding of the same hand. So be of good cheer, 
my children We shall not want ; we shall yet have 
plenty, - we may be rich!” 

It was not that any of those young creatures cared 
much about being rich, but because they saw their 
father so happy, that they broke out into something 
more than a murmur of applause. It was, in fact . a 
cheer, in which both Totty and Swartboy joined. It 
rang over the little lake, and caused the birds about 
settling to roost to wonder what was going on. 
There was no happier group in all Africa than stood 
at that moment upon the shore of that lonely little 
vley. 


TURNED HUNTERS. 


Hi 


CHAPTER XX. 

TURNED HUNTERS. 

The field-cornet, then, had resolved upon turning 
hunter by profession — a hunter of elephants ; and it 
was a pleasant reflection to think that this occupa- 
tion promised not only exciting sport, but great 
profit. He knew that it was not so easy a matter 
to succeed in killing such large and valuable game 
as elephants. He did not suppose that in a few 
weeks or months he would obtain any great quan- 
tities of their ivory. spoils ; but he had made up his 
mind to spend even years in the pursuit. For years 
he should lead the life of a Bushman, — for years his 
sons would be “ Bush-boys / 7 — and he hoped that 
in time his patience and toil would be amply re- 
warded. 

That night, around the camp-fire, all were very 
happy, and very merry. The elephant had been 
left where he lay, to be cut up on the morrow. Only 
his trunk had been taken off, part of which was 
cooked for supper. 

Although all the flesh of the elephant is eatable, 
the trunk is esteemed one of the delicate bits. It 
tastes not unlike ox-tongue, and all of them liked it 
exceedingly. To Swartboy, who had made many 


142 


TURNED HUNTERS 


a meal upon “ do ole klow,” it was a highly-ielished 
feast. 

They had plenty of fine milk, too. The cow, now 
upon the best of pasture, doubled her yield ; and the 
quantity of this, the most delicious of all drinks, was 
sufficient to give every one a large allowance. 

While enjoying their new-fashioned dish of roast 
elephant-trunk, the conversation naturally turned 
upon these animals. 

Everybody knows the appearance of the elephant; 
therefore a description of him is quite superfluous 
But everybody does not know that there are two 
distinct kinds of this gigantic quadruped — the Afri 
can and Asiatic. 

Until a late period they were thought to be of the 
same species. Now they are acknowledged to be, 
not only distinct, but very different in many respects. 
The Asiatic, or, as it is more frequently called, the 
1 Indian ” elephant, is the larger of the two ; but it 
is possible that domestication may have produced a 
larger kind, as is the rule with many animals. The 
African species exists only in a wild state ; and it 
would appear that individuals of this kind have been 
measured having the dimensions of the largest of the 
wild Asiatic elephants. 

The most remarkable points of difference between 
the two are found in the ears and tusks. The ears 
of the African elephant are of enormous proportions, 
meeting each other above the shoulders, and hang- 
ing down below the breast. Those of the Indian ele- 
phant are scarce one third the size. In his grand 
tusks the former has far the advantage, — these in 


TURNEJ HUNTERS. 


143 


some iniividuals weighing nearly two hundred 
pounds each, — while the tusks of the latter rarely 
reach the weight of one hundred. To this, however, 
there are some exceptions. Of course a two hun- 
dred pound tusk is one of the very largest, and far 
above the average even of African elephants. In 
this species the females are also provided with tusks, 
— though not of such size as in the males, — whereas 
the female of the Indian elephant has either no tusks 
at all, or they are so small as to be scarcely percep- 
tible outside the skin of the lips 

The other chief points of difference between the 
two are that the front of the Asiatic elephant is con- 
cave, while that of the African is convex ; and the 
former has four horny toes, or sabots , on the hind-foot, 
where only three appear upon that of the latter. The 
enamel of the teeth presents still another proof of 
these animals being different in species. 

Nor are all Asiatic elephants alike. In this spe- 
cies there are varieties which present very distinct 
features ; and, indeed, these “ varieties,” as they are 
called, appear to differ from each other nearly as 
much as any one of them does from the African 
kind. 

One variety, known among Orientals by the name 
of “mooknah,” has straight tusks that point down- 
ward, whereas the usual habit of these singular 
appendages is to curve upward. 

Asiatics -ecognize two main castes, or perhaps 
species, among their elephants One known as 
"coomareah ” is a deep-bodied, compact, and strong 
animal, with large trunk and short legs. The otbe* 


144 


TURNED HUNTER? 


called “ merghee,” is a taller kind, but neither st 
compact nor strong as the coomareah, nor has he sc 
large a trunk. His long legs enable him to trave 
taster than the coomareah ; but the latter having a 
larger trunk (a point of beauty among elephant- 
owners), and being capable of enduring more fatigue, 
is the favorite, and fetches a larger price in the 
Oriental market. 

Occasionally a white elephant is met with. This is 
simply an “ albino but such are greatly prized in 
many countries of Asia, and large sums are given 
for them. They are even held in superstitious ven- 
eration in some parts. 

The Indian elephant at the present time inhabits 
most of the southern countries of Asia, including 
the large islands of Ceylon, Java, Sumatra, Borneo, 
etc. Of course every one knows that in these coun- 
tries the elephant has been trained long ago to the 
use of man, and is one of the “ domtiAdc animals.” 
But he also exists in a wild state, bobi upon the con- 
tinent of Asia and in its islands; a ?d hunting the 
elephant is one of the grand sports t.f the East 

In Africa the elephant exists or^y in a state of 
nature. None of the nations upon this little-known 
continent tame or train him to an> purpose. He is 
only prized among them for his precious teeth, and 
his flesh is well. Some have asserted that this 
species is more fierce than its Lilian congener, and 
could not be domesticated. Thi& is altogether a mis 
take. The reason why the African elephant is not 
trained, is simply that none of the modern nations 
of Africa have yet reached a high enough point o# 


TURNED HUNTERS 


145 


tivibzation to avail themselves of the services of this 
valuable animal. 

The African elephant may be domesticated and 
trained to the “howdah,” or castle, as easily as his 
Indian cousin. The trial has been made ; but that it 
can be done no better proof is required than that at 
one period it was done, and upon a large scale. The 
elephants of the Carthaginian army were of this 
species. 

The African elephant at present inhabits the cen- 
tral and southern parts of Africa. Abyssinia on the 
east, and Senegal on the west, are nis northern lim- 
its, and but a few years ago he roamed southward to 
the very Cape of Good Hope. The activity of the 
Dutch ivory-hunters, with their enormous long guns, 
has driven him from that quarter ; and he is no 
longer to be found to the south of the Orange river. 

Some naturalists (Cuvier among others) believed 
the Abyssinian elephant to be of the Indian species. 
That idea is now exploded, and there is no reason to 
think that the latter inhabits any part of i^rica. It 
is very likely there are varieties of the African spe- 
cies in different parts of the continent. It is well 
known that those of the tropical regions are larger 
than the others ; and a reddish and very fierce kind is 
said to be met with in the mountains of Africa, upon 
the river Niger. It is probable, however, that these 
red elephants seen have been some whose bodies 
were coated with red dust, as it is a habit of ele- 
phants to powder themselves with dust on many 
occasions, using their trunks as “ dredgers . }f 

Swartboy spok< of a variety well known among 


146 


TURNED HUNTERS. 


the Hottentot hunters as the “ koes-cops.” Tnis 
kind, he said, differed from the ordinary ones by rts 
alwgether wanting the tusks, and being of a far 
more vicious disposition. Its encounter is more 
dreaded ; but, as it possesses no trophies to make it 
worth the trouble and danger of killing, the hunters 
usually give it a wide berth. 

Such was the conversation that night around the 
camp-fire. Much of the information here given was 
furnished by Hans, who, of course, had gathered it 
from books ; but the Bushman contributed his quota 
* — perhaps of a far more reliable character. 

A.11 were destined ere long to make practical ac- 
quaintance with the haunts and habits of this huge 
quadruped, that to them had now beccae the most 
interesting of all the animal creation. 


JERKING AN ELEPHANT, 


147 


CHAPTER XXI. 

JERKING AN ELEPHANT. 

Mext day was one of severe but joyful labor. It 
was spent in “ curing ’ ’ the elephant, — not in suned 
ical sense, but in the language of the provision-store. 

Although not equal to either beef or mutton, oi 
even pork, the flesh of the elephant is sufficiently 
palatable to be eaten. There is no reason why i\ 
should not be ; for the animal is a clean feeder, and 
lives altogether on vegetable substances— the leaves 
and tender shoots of trees, with several species of 
bulbous roots, which he well knows how to extract 
from the ground with his tusks and trunk. It does 
not follow from this that his beef should be well- 
tasted ; since we see that the hog, one of the most 
unclean of feeders, yields most delicious “ pork ; 99 
while another of the same family (pachydermata) , 
that subsists only on sweet succulent roots, pro- 
duces a flesh both insipid and bitter. I allude to the 
South American tapir. The quality of the food, 
therefore, is no criterion of the quality of the flesh. 

It is true that the beef of the elephant was not 
what Yon Bloom and most of his family would have 
chosen for their regular diet. Had they been sure 
of procuring a supply of antelope-venison, the great 
carcass might have gone, not to the “ dogs,” but 


48 


JERKING AN ELEPHANT. 


to their kindred the hyenas. But they were not sure 
of getting even a single antelope, and therefore de- 
cided upon “ curing ” the elephant. It would be a 
safe stock to have on hand, and need not interfere 
with their eating venison, or any other dainty that 
might turn up. 

The first thing done was to cut out the tusks. 
This proved a tough job, and occupied full two 
hours. Fortunately there was a good axe on hand 
But for this and Swartboy’s knowledge, double the 
time might have been wasted in the operation. 

The ivory having been extracted and put away in 
a safe place, the “cutting up” then commenced in 
earnest. Yon Bloom and Swartboy were the “baas- 
butchers,” while Hans and Hendrik played the part 
of “swabs.” As the carcass lay half under water, 
they would have had some difficulty in dealing with 
the under part. But this they did not design to 
touch. The upper half would be amply sufficient to 
provision them a long while ; and so they set about 
removing the skin from that side that was upper- 
most. 

The rough, thick outer coat they removed in broad 
sheets cut into sections ; and then they peeled off 
several coats of an under skin, of tough and pliant 
nature. Had they needed water-vessels, Swartboy 
would have saved this for making them — as it is 
used for such purposes by the Bushmen and other 
natives. But they had vessels enough in the wagon, 
and this skin was thrown away 

They had now reached the pure flesh, which they 
separated in large sheets from the rbs ; and then the 


JERKING AN ELEPHA>T. 


ribs were cut out, one by one, with the axe. This 
trouble they would not have taken — as they did not 
want the ribs — but they cut them away for another 
reason, namely, to enable them to get at the valuable 
fat, which lies in enormous quantities around the in- 
testines. Of course, for all cooking purposes, the 
fat would be to them invaluable, and indeed almost 
necessary to render the flesh itself eatable. 

It is no easy matter to get at the fat in the inside 
of an elephant, as the whole of the intestines have 
first to be removed. But Swartboy was not to be 
deterred by a little trouble ; so, climbing into the inte- 
rior of the huge carcass, he commenced cutting and 
delving, and every now and then passing a multitude 
of “inwards” out to the others, who carried them 
off out of the way. 

After a long spell of this work, thcf fat was secured, 
and carefully packed in a piece of clean under skin ; 
and then the “ butchering” was finished. 

Of course the four feet, which along with the 
trunk are considered the “tit-bits,” had already 
been separated at the fetlock joint ; and stood out 
upon the bank, for the future consideration of 
Swartboy. 

The next thing to be done was to “cure” the 
meat. They had a stock of salt — that precious, 
though, as lately discovered, not indispensable arti- 
cle. But the quantity — stowed away in a dry cor- 
ner of the wagon — was small, and would have gone 
but a short way in curing an elephant. 

They had no idea of using it for such a purpose. 
Flesh can be preserved without salt ; and not only 


150 


JERKING AN ELEPHANT. 


Swartboy, but Von Bloom himself, knew how to pro 
serve it. In all countries where salt is scarce, the 
process of “jerking” meat is well understood, and 
consists simply in cutting it into thin strips and 
hanging it out in the sun. A few days of bright, 
warm sunshine will “jerk” it sufficiently ; and 
meat thus dried will keep good for months. A slo\tf 
fire will answer the purpose nearly as well ; and, in 
the absence of sunshine, the fire is often resorted to. 

Sun-dried meat in South Africa is called “ bil- 
tongue.” The Spaniards of Mexico name it “tas- 
ajo,” while those of Peru style it “ charqui.” In 
English it is “jerked ” meat. 

Several hours were spent in cutting the elephant- 
beef into strips ; and then a number of forked poles 
*ere set up, others were laid horizontally over the 
forks, and upon these the meat was suspended, and 
hung down in numberless festoons. 

Before the sun went down, the neighborhood of 
the camp presented' a rare appearance. It looked 
somewhat like the enclosure of a yarn-bleacher, ex- 
cept that the hanging strips, instead of being white, 
were of a beautiful clear ruby-color. 

But the work was not yet completed. The feet 
remained to be “ preserved,” and the mode of curing 
these was entirely different. That was a secret 
known only to Swartboy, and in the execution of it 
the Bushman played first fiddle, with the important 
air of a chef de cuisine. 

He proceeded as follows : 

He first dug a hole in the ground, about two feet 
deep, and a little more in diameter — just large 


JERKING AN ELEPHANT. 


151 


enough to admit one of the feet, which was nearly 
two feet diameter at the base. The earth which 
came out of this hole Swartboy placed in the form 
of a loose embankment around the edge. 

By his direction the boys had already collected 
upon the spot a large quantity of dried branches and 
logs. These Swartboy now built over the hole, into 
a pyramid of ten feet high, and then set the pile on 
fire. He next proceeded to make three other pits 
precisely similar, and built over each a fire like the 
first, until four large fires were burning upon the 
ground. 

The fires being now fairly under way, he could 
only wait until each had burned down. This would 
carry the process into the night, and so it turned 
out ; but Swartboy had a foresight of this. He knew 
he would get through with the more important por- 
tion of his work before bedtime. 

When the first fire had burned quite to red cin- 
ders, Swartboy’s hardest turn of duty began. With 
a shovel he lifted the cinders out of the hole, until it 
was empty ; but he was more than an hour in per- 
forming this apparently simple labor. The difficulty 
arose from the intense heat he had to encounter, 
which drove him back after every few moments’ 
work ; so that he was compelled to retreat at inter* 
vals in order to cool himself. 

The “ baas,” as well as Hendrik and Hans, took 
turns with him, until all four were perspiring as if 
they had been shut up for half an hour in a baker’s 
oven. 

When the hole was thoroughly scooped clean of 


'52 


JERKING AN ELEPHANT. 


soais, Swartboy, assisted by Von Bloom, lifted oii« 
of the huge feet; and, carrying it as near as they 
dare go on account of the scorching heat, they 
ueaved it in upon its base. 

The sa.'dy earth which had been crigiually re* 
moved, and which was now as hot as molten lead, 
was pushed over and around the foot ; and then the 
cinders were raked on top, and over that another 
huge fire was kindled. 

The same process was gone through with the other 
three feet, and all four were to be left in the “ oven ” 
until the fires should be burned down, when they 
would be found suffi ciently “ baked ” 

Swartboy would then rake off the cinders, take 
out the feet with a sharp wooden spit, beat them 
well to get rid of the dust, scrape the sand clear, 
then pare off the outside skin, when they would be 
ready either to be eaten or would keep for a long 
time. 

Swartboy would do all this as soon as the four 
huge bonfires should burn down 

But that would not be before the morning ; so all 
of them, fatigued by the extraordinary exertions of 
the day, finished their suppers of broiled trunk, and 
went to rest under the protecting shadow of th« 
nwana. 


THE HIDEOUS HYENA. 


153 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE HIDEOUS HYENA. 

Fatigued as they were, they would soon have fallen 
asleep. But they were not permitted to do so. As 
they lay with closed eyes in that half-dreamy state 
that precedes sleep, they were suddenly startled by 
strange voices near the camp. 

These voices were uttered in peals of loud laughter ; 
and no one, unacquainted with them, would have 
pronounced them to be anything else than the voices 
of human beings. They exactly resembled the strong 
treble produced by the laugh of a maniac negro. It 
seemed as if some Bedlam of negroes had been let 
loose, and were approaching the spot. 

I say approaching, because each moment the 
sounds grew clearer and louder ; and it was evident 
that whatever gave utterance to them was coming 
nearer to the camp. 

That there was more than one creature was evi- 
dent ; ay, and it was equally evident that there 
was more than one kind of creature ; for so varied 
were the voices, it would have puzzled a ventrilo- 
quist to have given imitations of them all. There 
was howling, and whining, and grunting, and growl- 
ing, and low melancholy moaning as of some one in 
pain, and hissing, and chattering, and short, sharp 


154 


THE HIDEOUS HYENA 


intonations, as if it were the barking of dogs, and then 
a moment or two of deep silence, and again that cho- 
rus of human-like laughter, that in point of horror 
and hideous suggestions surpassed all the other 
sounds. 

You will suppose that such a wild concert must 
have put the camp in a state of great alarm. Not a 
bit of it. Nobody was frightened the least — not 
even innocent little Triiey, nor the diminutive Jan. 

Had they been strangers to these sounds, no doubt 
they would have been more than frightened. They 
would have been terrified by them ; for they were 
calculated to produce such an effect upon any one to 
whose ears they were new. 

But Yon Bloom and his family had lived too long 
upon the wild karoo to be ignorant of those voices. 
In the howling, and chattering, and yelping, they 
heard but the cries of the jackal ; and they well 
knew the maniac laugh of the hideous hyena. 

Instead of being alarmed, and springing from their 
beds, they lay still and listened, not dreading any 
attack from the noisy creatures. 

Yon Bloom and the children slept in the wagon; 
Swartboy and Totty, upon the ground ; but these lay 
close to the fires, and therefore did not fear wild 
boasts of any kind. 

But the hyenas and jackals upon this occasion 
appeared to be both numerous and bold. In a few 
minutes after they were first heard, their cries rose 
around the camp on all sides, so near and so loud as 
to be positively disagreeable, even without consid- 
ering the nature of the brutes that uttered them. 


THE HIDEOUS HYENA. 


15fi 


At last they came so close that it was impossible 
to look in any direction without seeing a pair of 
green or red eyes gleaming under the light of the 
fires White teeth, too, could be observed, as the 
hyenas opened their jaws to give utterance to their 
harsh laughter. 

With such 'a~sight- before their eyes, and such 
sounds ringing in their ears, neither Yon Bloom nor 
any of his people, tired as they were, could go to 
sleep. Indeed, not only was sleep out of the ques- 
tion, but, worse than that, all, the field-cornet himself 
not excepted, began to experience some feelings of 
apprehension, if not actual alarm. 

They had never beheld a troop of hyenas so numer 
ous and fierce. There could not be less than two 
dozen of them around the camp, with twice that 
number of jackals. 

Yon Bloom knew that although, under ordinary 
circumstances, the hyena is not a dangerous animal, 
yet there are places and times when he will attack 
human beings. Swartboy knew this well, and Hans, 
too, from having read of it. No wonder, then, that 
some apprehension was felt by all of them. 

The hyenas now behaved with such boldness, and 
appeared so ravenous, that sleep was out of the 
question. Some demonstration must be made to 
drive the brutes away from the camp. 

Yon Bloom, Hans, and Hendrik, laid hold of their 
guns, and got out of the wagon, while Swartboy 
armed himself with his bow and arrows. All four stood 
close by the trunk of the nwana, on the other side 
from that where the fires were. In this place they 


156 


THE HIDEOUS HYENA. 


were in the shadow, where they could best observe 
anything that should come under the light of the fires 
without being themselves seen. Their position was 
well chosen. 

They had scarcely fixed themselves in it, when 
they perceived a great piece of neglect they b een 
guilty of. Now, for the first time, it occurred to 
them what had brought the hyenas around them in 
such numbers. Beyond a doubt it was the flesh of 
the elephant — the biltongue. 

That was what the beasts were after ; and all now 
saw that a mistake, had been committed in hanging 
the meat too low. The hyenas might easily get at it. 

This was soon made manifest ; for, even at the 
moment while they stood watching the red festoons, 
plainly visible under the light of Swartboy’s fires, a 
shaggy spotted brute rushed forward, reared up on 
his hind legs, seized one of the pieces, dragged it 
down from the pole, and then ran off with it into the 
darkness. 

A rushing sound could be heard as the others 
joined him to get share of his plunder ; and no 
doubt in less than half a minute the morsel was con- 
sumed ; for, at the end of that time, glancing eyes 
and gleaming teeth showed that the whole troop was 
back again, and ready to make a fresh seizure. 

None of the hunters had fired, as the nimbleness 
with which the brutes moved about rendered it diffi- 
cult to take aim at any one of them ; and all knew 
that powder and lead were too precious to be wasted 
on a “ flying shot.’’ 

Emboldened by their success, the hjenas had no\* 


THE HIDEOUS nYENA. 


.57 


drawn nearer, and in a moment more would have 
made a general charge upon the scaffolds of flesh, 
and, no doubt, would have succeeded in carrying off 
a large quantity of it. But just then it occurred to 
Yon Bloom that it would be best to lay aside their 
guns, and remedy the mistake they had made by 
putting the biltongue out of reach. If they did not 
do so, they would either have to remain- awake all 
night and guard it, or else lose every string of it. 

How was it to be put out of reach ? 

At first they thought of collecting it into a heap, 
and stowing it away in the wagon. That would not 
only be an unpleasant job, but it would interfere 
with their sleeping quarters. 

An alternative, however, presented itself. They 
saw that, if the scaffolds were only high enough, the 
meat might be easily hung so as to be out of reach 
of the hyenas. The only question was, how to place 
the cross-poles a little higher. In the darkness they 
could not obtain a new set of uprights, — and therein 
lay the difficulty. How were they to get over it ? 

Ilans had the credit of suggesting a way ; and 
that was, to take out some of the uprights, splice 
them to the others, with the forked ends uppermost, 
and then rest the horizontal poles on the upper forks. 
That would give a scaffold tall enough to hang the 
meat beyond the reach of either jackals or hyenas. 

Hans’ suggestion was at once adopted. Half of 
the uprights were taken up and spliced against the 
others, so as to raise their forks full twelve feet in the 
air ; and then the cross-poles were rested over theii 
tops By standing upon one of the wagon-chests, 
N 


158 


THE HIDEOUS HYENA. 


Von Bloom was able to fling the strips of meat over 
the horizontal poles, and in such a manner that it 
hung only a few inches down, and was now quite 
beyond the reach of the ravenous brutes. 

When the business was finished, the party resumed 
their station under the shadow of the tree, intending 
to watch for a while, and see how the wolfish in- 
truders would act. 

They had not long to watch. In less than five 
minutes the troop approached the biltongue, howl- 
ing, and gibbering, and laughing, as before ; only 
this time uttering peculiar cries, as if to express dis- 
appointment. They saw at a glance that the tempt- 
ing festoons were no longer within their reach. 

They were not going to leave the ground, how- 
ever, without assuring themselves of this fact ; and 
several of the largest approached boldly under the 
scaffolds, and commenced leaping up to try the 
height. 

After several attempts, springing each time as 
high as they were able, they appeared to grow dis- 
couraged ; and no doubt would in time have imitated 
the fox with the grapes, and gone quietly away. 
But Von Bloom, indignant at being roused after such 
a fashion from his pleasant rest, was determined to 
take some revenge upon his tormenters ; so he 
whispered the word to the others, and a volley was 
delivered from behind the tree. 

The unexpected discharge caused a quick scatter- 
ing of both hyenas and jackals, and the pattering of 
their numerous feet could be heard as they ran off. 
When the ground under the scaffold was examined, 


THE HIDEOUS HYENA. 


159 


two of the larger of these ravenous quadrupeds, and 
one of the smaller, were found to have bitten thu 
dust. 

Swartboy had discharged his arrow along with th< 
guns, and it was he that had slain the jackal, for tin 
poisoned shaft was seen sticking between the ani 
maPs ribs. 

The guns were again loaded, the party took theii 
stations as before ; but, although they waited another 
half-hour, neithei hyena nor jackal made their appear- 
ance. 

They had not gone far away, however, as their 
wild music testified ; but the reason they did not 
return was, that they had now discovered the half 
carcass of the elephant that lay in the lake, and 
upon that they were making their supper. Their 
plunging in the water could be distinctly heard from 
the camp, and during the whole night they quar- 
relled and growled, and laughed and yelled, as they 
gorged themselves on their ample prey. 

Of course Von Bloom and his people did not sit 
up all night to listen to this medley of noises. As 
soon as they perceived that the brutes were not 
likely to come any more near the camp, they laid 
aside their weapons, returned to their respective 
sleeping-places, and were all soon buried in the sweet 
glumber that c ollows a day of healthy exercise 


160 


STALKING THE OUREB1. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

STALKING THE OUREBI. 

Next morning the hyenas and jackals had disap- 
peared from the scene, and, to the surprise of all; 
not a particle of flesh was left upon the bones of the 
elephant. There lay the huge skeleton picked clean, 
the bones even polished white by the rough tongues 
of the hyenas. Nay, still stranger to relate, two of 
the horses — these poor brutes had been long since 
left to themselves — had been pulled down during the 
night, and their skeletons lay at a short distance 
from the camp, as cleanly picked as that of the 
elephant. 

All this was evidence of the great number of rav- 
enous creatures that must have their home in that 
quarter ; evidence, too, that game animals aboundeu, 
for where these are not numerous the beasts of prey 
cannot exist. Indeed, from the quantity of tracks 
that were seen upon the shores of the vley, it was 
evident that animals of various kinds had drunk 
there during the night. There was the round solid 
hoof of the quagga, and his near congener the dauw ; 
and there was the neat hoof-print of the gemsbok, 
and the larger track of the eland ; and among these 
Von Bloom did not fail to notice the spoor cf the 
dreaded lion. Although they had not heal'd big 


STALKING THE OUREBI. 


161 


roaring that night, they had no doubt l ut there were 
plenty of his kind in that part of the country. The 
presence of his favorite prey, the quaggas, the gems- 
boks, and the elands, were sure indications that the 
king of beasts was not far olf. 

Not much work was done that day. The heavy 
Labor of curing the biltongue that had occupied them 
the whole of the preceding day, and their disturbed 
rest, had rendered them all listless ; and neither Yon 
Bloom nor the others had any inclination for work. 
So they moved around the camp, and did very little. 

Swartboy took his elephant’s feet from the oven 
and cleansed them ; and also let down the biltongue, 
and arranged it so as to be better exposed to the 
sun. Yon Bloom himself shot the three remaining 
horses, having driven them to a good ‘distance from 
the camp. He did this to put an end to the suffer- 
ing of the poor brutes, for it was plain to every one 
that they could survive but a day or two longer ; 
and to send a bullet through the heart of each was 
an act of mercy to them. 

Out of all the live stock of the field-cornet, the cow 
alone remained, and she was now tended with the 
greatest care. Without the precious milk, which 
sue yielded in such quantity, their diet would have 
been savage enough ; and they fully appreciated the 
service she rendered them. Each day she was drive* 
out to the best pasture, and at night shut up in > 
safe kraal of wait-a-bit thorns, that had been built fix 
her at a little distance from the tree. These thorn* 
had been placed in such a manner that their shanks 
all radiated inward, while the bushy tops were turned 
tl 


l 62 


STALKING THE OUREBI 


mt, forming a chevaux-de-frise, that scarce any am 
mal would have attempted to get through. Such a 
fence will turn even the lion, unless when he has 
been rendered fierce and. reckless by provocation. 

Of course a gap had been left for the cow to pass 
in and out, and this was closed by one immense 
bush, which served all the purpose of a gate. Such 
was the kraal of “ old Graaf.” Besides the cow, 
the only living thing that remained in camp was 
Triiey’s little pet, the fawn of the gazelle. 

But on that very day another pet was added, — a 
dear little creature, not less beautiful than the spring- 
bok, and of still more diminutive proportions. That 
was the fawn of an “ ourebi,” — one of the elegant 
little antelopes that are found in such variety over 
the plains and in the “ bush ” of Southern Africa. 

It was to Hendrik they were indebted not only for 
this pet, but for a dinner of delicate venison, which 
they had that day eaten, and which all of them 
except Swartboy, preferred to elephant-beef. Hen- 
drik had procured the venison by a shot from his 
rifle, and in the following manner. 

About midday he went out, having fancied that 
upon a large grassy meadow near the camp he saw 
some animal. After walking about half a mile, and 
keeping among bushes, around the edge of the mead- 
ow, he got near enough to be sure that it was an 
animal he had observed, — for he now saw two in the 
place he had marked. 

They were of a kind he had not met with before. 
They were very small creatures, — smaller even than 
springboks, — but, from their general form and ap 


STALKING THE OUREBI. 


103 


pearance, Hendrik knew they were either antelopes 
or deer ; and as Hans had told him there were no 
deer in Southern Africa , he concluded they must be 
some species of antelope. They were a buck and 
doe, — this he knew because one of them only carried 
horns. The buck was under two feet in height, of 
slender make, and pale tawny color. He was white* 
beTied, with white arches above the eyes, and some 
long white hair under the throat. Below his knees 
were yellowish tufts of long hair ; and his horns, 
instead of being lyrate, like those of the spiingbok, 
rose nearly vertical to the height of four inches. 
They were black in color, round-shaped, and slightly 
ringed. The doe was without horns, and was a 
much smaller animal than her mate. 

From all these marks Hendrik thought the little 
antelopes were “ ourebis ; ” and such they were. 

He continued to stalk in upon them, until he was 
as close as he could get. But he was still more 
than two hundred yards from them, and of course far 
from being within shooting distance with his small 
rifle. 

A thick jong dora bush concealed him, but he 
dared not go further, else the game would have 
taken the alarm. He could perceive that they were 
shy creatures. 

Every now and again the buck would raise his 
graceful neck to its full stretch, utter a slight bleats 
ing call, and look suspiciously around him. From 
these symptoms Hendrik drew the inference that it 
was shy game, and would not be easily approached. 

He lay for a moment, thinking what he should do 


164 


STALKING THE 0UREBI. 


He was to leeward of the game, as he had purposely 
gone there ; but after a while^to his chagrin, he saw 
that they were feeding up the wind, and of course 
widening the distance between them and himself. 

It occurred to Hendrik that it might be their habit 
to browse up the wind, as springboks and some 
other species do. If so, he might as well give it up, 
or else make a long circuit and head them. To do 
this would be a work of labor and of time, and a 
very uncertain stalk it would be in the end. Afte? 
all his long tramping, and creeping, and crouching, 
the game would be like enough to scent him be- 
fore they came within shot — for it is for this very 
reason that their instinct teaches them to browse 
against, and not with the wind. 

As the plain was large, and the cover very distant, 
Hendrik was discouraged, and gave up the design 
he had half formed of trying to head them. 

He was about to rise to his feet, and return home, 
when it occurred to him that perhaps he might find 
a decoy available. He knew there were several 
species of antelopes with whom curiosity was 
stronger than fear. He had often lured the spring- 
bok within reach. Why would not these obey the 
same impulse ? 

He determined to make trial. At the worst he 
could only fail, and he had no chance of getting a 
shot otherwise. 

Without losing a moment, he thrust his hand into 
his pocket. He should have found there a large red 
handkerchief, which he had more than once used 







* 









STALKING THE OUREBI. 


166 

for a similar purpose. To his chagrin it was not 
there. 

He dived into both pockets of his jacket, then into 
his wide trousers, then under the breast of his waist- 
coat. No. The handkerchief was not to be found. 
Alas ! it had been left in the wagon. It was very 
annoying. 

What else could he make use of? Take ofl* his 
jacket and hold it up ? It was not gay enough in 
color. It would not do. 

Should he raise his hat upon the end of his gun ? 
That might be better, but still it would look too 
much like the human form, and Hendrik knew that 
all animals feared that. 

A happy thought at length occurred to him. He 
had heard that with the curious antelopes strange 
forms or movements attract almost as much as glar- 
ing colors. He remembered a trick that was said to 
be practised with success by the hunters. It was 
easy enough, and consisted merely in the hunter 
standing upon his hands and head, and kicking his 
heels in the air. 

Now, Hendrik happened to be one of those very 
boys who had often practised this little bit of gym- 
nastics for amusement ; and he could stand upon his 
head like an acrobat. 

Without losing a moment, he placed his rifle upon 
the ground between his hands, and, hoisting his feei 
into the air, commenced kicking them about, clinking 
them together, and crossing them in the most fan 
tastic manner. 

He had vlaced himself so that his face was turned 


o 


160 


STALKING THE OUREBI. 


towards the animals, while he stood upon his head 
Of course he could not see them while in this posi 
tion, as the grass was a foot high ; but, at intervals, 
he permitted his feet to descend to the earth ; and 
then, by looking betweei his legs, he could tell how 
the ruse was succeeding. 

It did succeed. The tuck, on first perceiving the 
strange object, uttered \ sharp whistle, and darted 
off with the swiftness of a bird — for the “ ourebi * 
is one of the swiftest of African antelopes. The doe 
followed, though not so fast, and soon fell into the 
rear. 

The buck, perceiving this, suddenly halted, as if 
ashamed of his want of gallantry, wheeled round, 
and galloped back, until he was once more between 
the doe and the odd thing that had alarmed him. 

What could this odd thing be, he now seemed 
to inquire of himself. It was not a lion, nor a leop- 
ard, nor a hyena, nor yet a jackal. It was neither 
fox, nor fennec, nor earth-wolf, nor wild hound, noi 
any of his well-known enemies. It was not a Bush- 
man, neither ; for they are not double-headed, as it 
appeared. Wkat could it be ? It had kept its place 
— it had not pursued him. Perhaps it was not at 
all dangerous. No doubt it was harmless enough. 

So reasoned the ourebi. His curiosity overcame 
his fear. He would go a little nearer. He wculd 
have a better view of the thing before he took to 
flight No matter what it was, it could do no hurt 
at that distance ; and as to overtaking him — pah ! 
there vasn't a creature, biped or quadruped, in all 
Africa that he could not fling dust in the face of. 


S.'ALKING THE OUREBI. 




So he went a little nearer, and then a little nearer 
still, and continued to advance by successive runs, 
now this way and now that way, zigzagging over 
the plain, until he was within less than a hundred 
paces of the odd object that at first sight had sc 
terrified him. 

His companion, the doe, kept close after him, 
and seemed quite as curious as himself — her large 
shining eyes opened to their full extent, as she 
stopped to gaze at intervals. 

Sometimes the two met each other in their course, 
and halted a moment, as though they held consulta* 
tion in whispers, and asked each other if they had 
yet made out the character of the stranger. 

It was evident, however, that neither had done so, 
as they still continued to approach it with looks 
and gestures of inquiry and wonder. 

At length the odd object disappeared for a moment 
under the grass; and then reappeared — but this 
time in an altered form. Something about it glanced 
brightly under the sun, and this glancing quite fas- 
cinated the buck, so that he could not stir from the 
spot, but stood eying it steadily. 

Fatal fascination ! It was his last gaze. A bright 
flash shot up, something struck him through the 
heart, and he saw the shining object no more. 

The doe bounded forward to where her mate had 
fallen, and stood bleating over him. She knew not 
the cause of his sudden death, but she saw that he 
was dead. The wound in his side, the stream of 
red blood, were under her eyes. She had nevei 
witnessed death in that form before, but she knew 


168 


STALKING THE OUREBI. 


her lover was dead. His silence, his form stretched 
along the grass motionless and limber, his glassy 
eyes, all told her he had ceased to live. 

She would have fled, but she could not leave him 
— she could not bear to part even from his lifeless 
form. She would remain a while, and mourn over 
him. 

Her widowhood was a short one. Again flashed 
the priming, again cracked the shining tube, and 
the sorrowing doe fell over upon the body of her 
mate. 

The young hunter rose to his feet, and ran for- 
ward. He did not, according to usual custom, stop 
to load before approaching his quarry. The plain 
was perfectly level, and he saw no other animal upon 
it. What was his surprise, on reaching the antelopes, 
to perceive that there was a third one of the party, 
still alive. 

Yes, a little f »wo, not taller than a rabbit, was 
bounding about through the grass, running around 
the prostrate body of its mother, and uttering its 
tiny bleah 

Hendrk wes surprised, because he had not ob 
served this creature before ; but, indeed, he had not 
seen much of the antelopes-until the moment of 
taking aim, and the grass had concealed the tiny 
young one. 

Hunter as He jdrik was, he could not help feeling 
Btrongly as bo regarded the tableau before him 
But he felt that he had not wantonly destroyed these 
creatures for more amusement, and that satisfied hi* 
conscience. 


STALKING THE 0UREBI. 


169 


The little fawn would make a famous pet for Jan, 
who had often wished for one, to be equal with hia 
sister. It could be fed upon the cow’s milk, and, 
though it had lost both father and mother, Hendrik 
resolved that it should be carefully brought up. He 
had no difficulty in capturing it, as it refused to leave 
the spot where its mother lay, and Hendrik soon 
held the gentle creature in his arms. 

He then tied the buck and doe together ; and, 
having fastened a strong cord round the horns of 
the latter, he set off, dragging the two antelopes 
behind him. 

As these lay upon the ground, heads foremost, 
they were drawn with the grain of the hair , which 
made it much easier ; and as there was nothing but 
grass sward to be passed over, the young hunter 
succeeded in taking the whole of his game tu camp 
without any great difficulty. 

The joy of all was great, at seeing such a fine lot 
of venison ; but Jan’s rejoicing was greater than all, 
and he no longer envied Triiey the possession of hex 
little gazelle 


IJTTLE JAN*S ADVENTURE 


.70 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

LITTLE JAN’S ADVENTURE. 

Ii would have been better that Jan had novel 
Seen the little “ ourebi,” — better both for Jan and 
the antelope, for that night the innocent creature 
was the cause of a terrible panic in the camp. 

They had all gone to sleep as on the previous 
night, — Von Bloom and the four children in the 
wagon, while the Bushman and Totty slept upon the 
grass. The latter lay under the wagon ; but Swart- 
boy had kindled a large fire a little distance from 
it, and beside this had stretched himself, rolled up 
in his sheep-skin kaross. 

They had all gone to sleep without being disturbed 
by the hyenas. This was easily accounted for 
The three horses that had been shot that day occu- 
pied the attention of these gentry, for their hideous 
voices could be heard off in the direction where the 
carcasses lay. Having enough to give them a sup- 
per, they found no occasion to risk themselves in 
the neighborhood of the camp, where they had 
experienced such a hostile reception on the previous 
night. So reasoned Von Bloom, as he turned over 
and fell asleep. 

He did not reason correctly, however. It was 
true that the hyenas were just then making a meal 


LITTLE JAN'S ADVENTURE. 


17 ) 


upon the horses ; but it was a mistake to suppose 
that that would satisfy these ravenous brutes, who 
never seem to have enough. Long before morning, 
had Yon Bloom been awake, he would have heard the 
maniac laugh closer to the camp, and might have 
seen the green eyes of the hyena glancing under the 
expiring blaze of Swartboy's camp-fire. 

Indeed, he had heard the beasts once that he 
awoke ; but, knowing that the biltongue had been 
this night placed out of their reach, and thinking 
that there was nothing to which they could do any 
harm, he gave no heed to their noisy demonstra- 
tions, and went to sleep again. 

He was awakened, however, by a shrill squeak, 
as of some animal in the agonies of death ; and then 
there was a second squeak, that seemed to be sud- 
denly interrupted by the stifling of the creature’s 
utterance. 

In these cries Yon Bloom, as well as the others, — 
who were now also awake, — recognized the bleat of 
the ourebi, for they had heard it several times during 
the afternoon. 

“ The hyenas are killing it ! ” thought they. ^ But 
they had not time to say so, before another and far 
different cry reached their ears, and caused them all 
to start as if a bomb-shell had burst under the 
wagon. That cry was the voice of Jan, and sounded 
in the same direction whence came the scream of the 
stifled antelope 

“ 0 heaven ! what could it mean ? ” 

The child's voice first reached them in a sudden 
screech, then there was a confused noise resen* 


[72 


LITTLE JAN S ADVENTURE. 


cling a scuffle, and Jan was again heaid crying 
aloud for help, while at the same time his voice was 
interrupted, and each call appeared to come from a 
greater distance. Something or somebody was carry- 
ing him off l 

This idea occurred to Yon Bloom, Hans, and 
Hendrik, at the same instant. Of course it filled 
them with consternation ; and, as they were scarct 
yet awake, they knew not what to do. 

The cries of Jan, however, soon brought them to 
their senses ; and to run towards the direction 
whence these came was the first thought of all. 

To grope for their guns would waste time, and all 
three leaped out of the wagon without them. 

Totty was upon her feet and jabbering, but she 
knew no more than they what had happened. 

They did not stop long to question her The 
voice of Swartboy, uttered in loud barks and clicks, 
summoned them elsewhere ; and they now beheld a 
red flaming brand rushing through the darkness, 
which no doubt was carried in the hands of that 
worthy. 

They started off in the direction of the blazing 
torch, and ran as fast as they could. They still 
heard the Bushman’s voice, and to their dismay 
beyond it the screams of little Jan. 

Of course they could not tell what was causing 
all this. They only pressed on, with fearful appre- 
hensions. 

When they had got within some fifty paces of the 
torch, they perceived it suddenly descend, then 
raised again, and again brought down, in a rapid 


LITTLE JAN’S ADVENTURE. 


173 


and violent manner. They could heai the voice of 
the Bushman barking and clicking louder than ever ; 
as though he was engaged in chastising some creature. 

But Jan’s voice they no longer heard — he was 
screaming no more ; was he dead ? 

With terrible forebodings they rushed on. 

When they arrived upon the spot, a singular pic- 
ture presented itself to their eyes. Jan lay upon the 
ground, close in by the roots of some bushes which 
he was holding tightly in his grasp. From one of 
his wrists extended a stout thong, or rheim, which 
passed through among the bushes to the distance 
of several feet, and fast to the other end was the 
ourebi fawn, dead, and terribly mangled. Over the 
spot stood Swartboy with his burning tree, which 
blazed all the brighter that he had just been using it 
over the back of a ravenous hyena. The latter was 
not in sight. It had long since skulked off ; but no 
one thought of pursuit, as all were too anxious about 
Jan. 

No time was lost in lifting the child to his feet. 
The eyes of all ran eagerly over him to see where 
he was wounded, and an exclamation of joy soon 
broke forth, when they saw that, except the scratches 
of the thorns, and the deep track of a cord upon his 
wrist, nothing in the shape of a wound could be dis- 
covered upon his diminutive body. H>) had now 
come to himself, and assured them all that he was 
not hurt a bit. Hurra ! J an was safe * 

It now fell to Jan’s lot to explain all this myste- 
rious business. 

He had been lying in the wagon along with tha 


1 u LITTLE JAn’s ADVENTURE. 

rest, but not, like them, asleep. No. He could not 
Bleep a wink for thinking on his new pet, which, for 
want of room in the wagor., had been left below, tied 
to one of the wheels. 

Jan had taken it into his head that he would like 
to have another look at the ourebi before going to 
sleep. So, without saying a word to any one, he, 
crept out of the cap- tent,. and descended to where 
the antelope was tied. He unloosed it gently, and 
then led it forward to the light of the fire, where he 
Bat down to admire the creature. 

After gazing upon it for some time with delight, 
he thought that Swartboy could not do otherwise 
than share his feelings ; and, without more ado he 
shook the Bushman awake. 

The latter had no great stomach for being roused 
out of sleep to look at an animal, hundreds of which 
he had eaten in his time. But Jan and Swartboy 
were sworn friends, and the Bushman was not angry. 
He therefore indulged his young master in the fancy 
he had taken, and the two sat for a while conversing 
about the pet. 

At length Swartboy proposed sleep. Jan would 
agree to this only upon the terms that Swartboy would 
allow him to sleep alongside of him. He would 
bring his blanket from the wagon, and would not 
trouble Swartboy by requiring part of the latter’s 
kaross. 

Swartboy objected at first, but Jan urged that he 
had felt cold in the wagon, and that was partly why 
he had come down to the fire. Ail this was sheer 
cunning in the little imp. But Swartboy could not 


LITTLE JAN’S ADVENTURE. 


175 


refuse him anything, and at length consented He 
could see no harm in it, as there were no signs of 
rain. 

Jan then returned to the wagon, climbed noise- 
lessly up, drew out his own blankets, and brought 
them to the fire. He then wrapped himself up, and 
lay down alongside of Swartboy, with the ourebi 
standing near, and in such a situation that he could 
still have his eyes upon it, even when lying. To 
secure it from wandering, he had fastened a strong 
rheim around its neck, the other end of which he had 
looped tightly upon his own wrist. 

He lay for some time contemplating his beautiful 
pet. But sleep at length overcame him, and the im- 
age of the ourebi melted before his eyes. 

Beyond this, Jan could tell little of what happened 
to him. He was awakened by a sudden jerking at 
his wrist, and hearing the antelope scream. But he 
lad not quite opened his eyes before he felt himself 
dragged violently over the ground. 

He thought at first it was Swartboy playing some 
trick upon him ; but, as he passed the fire, he saw 
by its light that it was a huge black animal that had 
seized the ourebi, and was dragging both him and it 
along. 

Of course he then began to scream for help, and 
caught at everything he could to keep himself from 
being carried away. But he could lay hold of nothing 
until he found himself among thick bushes, and these 
he seized and held with all his might. 

He could not have held out long against the 
strength of the hyena ; but it was just at that mo 


176 


LITTLE JAN’S ADVENTURE. 


ment that Swartboy came up with his firebrand, an<? 
beat off the ravisher with a shower of blows. 

When they got back to the light of the fire, they 
found that Jan was all right. But the poor ourebi — 
it had been sadly mauled, and was now of no rnois 
ualue than a dead rat 


A CHAPTER UPON HYENA3. 


m 


CHAPTER XXV. 

A CHAPTER UPON HYENAS. 

Hyenas ire wolves, only wolves of a particulri 
Kind. They have the same general habits as wolves, 
and much of their look. They have heavier heads, 
broader, thicker muzzles, shorter and stouter necks, 
and altogether a coarser and shaggier coat. One of 
the most characteristic marks of the hyena is the 
inequality in the development of its limbs. The 
hind-legs appear weaker and shorter than the fore 
ones, so that the rump is far lower than the should- 
ers, and the line of the back, instead of being hori* 
zontal, as in most animals, droops obliquely towards 
the tail. 

The short, thick neck, and strong jaws, are charac- 
teristics ; the former so much so that in the days of 
fabulous natural history the hyena was said to be 
without cervical vertebrae. Its thick neck and pow- 
erful jaw-bones have their uses. It is by virtue of 
these that the hyena can make a meal upon bones, 
which would be of no use whatever to the ordinary 
wolf, or other beast of prey. It can break almost the 
largest and strongest joints, and not only extract 
their marrow, but crush the bones themselves, and 
swallow them as food. Here, again, we have proof 
of nature’s design. It is just where these !v# 
12 


178 


A CHAPTER UPON HYENAS. 


bones are found in greatest plenty that we find the 
hyena. Nature suffers nothing to be wasted. 

Hyenas are the wolves of Africa ; that is, they are 
in Africa the representatives of the large- wolf, which 
does not exist there. It is true the jackal is a wolf 
in every respect, but only a small one ; and there is 
no true wolf in Africa of the large kind, such as the 
gaunt robber of the Pyrenees, or his twin brother of 
America. But the hyena is the wolf of Africa. 

And of all wolves he is the ugliest and most brute- 
like. There is not a graceful or beautiful bit about 
him. In fact, I was about to pronounce him the ug- 
liest animal in creation, when the baboons came into 
my mind. They, of course, exhibit the ne plus ultra 
of ugliness ; and indeed the hyenas are not at all un- 
like them in general aspect, as well as in some of 
their habits. Some early writers even classed them 
together. 

Now, we have been speaking of the hyena as if 
there was but one species. For a long time but one 
was known, — the common or “ striped hyena” (Hy- 
ena vulgaris ), — and it was about this one that so 
many false stories have been told. Perhaps no other 
animal has held so conspicuous a place in the world 
of mystery and horror. Neither vampire nor dragon 
have surpassed him. Our ancestors believed that he 
could fascinate any one with his glance, lure them 
after him, and then devour them ; that he changed 
his sex every year ; that he could transform himself 
into a comely youth, and thus beguile young maidens 
off into the woods to be eaten up ; that he could im- 
itate the human voice perfectly ; that it was his cue 


A CHAPTER UPON HYENAS. 119 

tom to conceal himself near a house, listen until the 
name of one of the family should be mentioned, then 
call out as if for assistance, pronouncing the name 
he had heard, and imitating the cries of one in dis- 
tress. This would bring out the person called, who, 
course, on reaching the spot, would find only a 
fierce hyena ready to devour him. 

Strange as it may seem, all these absurd stories 
were once very generally believed ; and, strange as 
it may seem in me to say, not one of them but has 
some foundation. Exaggerated as they are, they all 
owe their origin to natural facts. There is a pecu- 
liarity about the glance of the hyena that has given 
birth to the notion of his possessing the power to 
“ charm, ” or fascinate ; there are peculiarities about 
his conformation that have led to the belief in a 
change of sex ; there is a peculiarity about the ani- 
mal's voice that might well gain him credit for 
imitating the human voice, for the simple reason 
that the former bears a very near resemblance to 
the latter. I do not say that the voice of the hyena 
is like the ordinary human voice, but there are some 
voices it does exactly resemble. I am acquainted 
with several people who have hyena voices. In fact, 
one of the closest imitations of a human laugh is 
that of the “ spotted hyena.” No one can hear it, 
hideous as it is, without being amused at its close 
approximation to the utterance of a human being. 
There is a dash of the maniac in its tones, and it re- 
minds me of the sharp, metallic ring which I have 
noticed in the voices of negroes. I have already 


180 


A CHAPTER UPCN HYENAS. 


compared it to what I should fancy wornd be toe 
laugh of a maniac negro. 

The striped hyena, although the best known, is, in 
my opinion, the least interesting of his kind. He is 
more widely distributed than any of his congeners. 
Found in most parts of Africa, he is also an Asiatic 
animal, is common enough throughout all the south- 
ern countries of Asia, and is even found as far north 
as the Caucasus and the Altai. He is the only spe- 
cies that exists in Asia. All the others are natives 
of Africa, which is the true home of the hyena. 

Naturalists admit but three species of hyena. 1 
Slave not the slightest doubt that there are twice that 
number, as distinct from each other as these three 
are. Five, at least, I know, without reckoning as 
hyenas either the “ wild hound ” of the Cape, or the 
little burrowing hyena ( Proteles ), both of which we 
shall no doubt meet with in the course of our hunt- 
ing adventures. 

First, then, we have the “ striped ” hyena, already 
mentioned. He is usually of an ashy-gray color, 
with a slight yellowish tinge, and a set of irregular 
strice, or stripes of black or dark brown. These are 
placed transversely to the length of his body, or 
rather obliquely, following nearly the direction of the 
ribs. They are not equally well defined or conspic- 
uous in different individuals of the species. The 
hair, like that of all hyenas, is long, harsh, and 
shaggy, but longer over the neck, shoulders, and 
back, where it forms a mane. This becomes erect 
when the animal is excited. The same may be ob- 
served among dogs. 


A CHAPTER UPON HYENAS. 


181 


the common hyena is far from being either strong 
t> brave, when compared with the others of his kind 
He is, in fact, the weakest and least ferocious of the 
family. He is sufficiently voracious, but lives chiefly 
on carrion, and will not dare attack living creatures 
of half his own strength. He preys only on the 
snallest quadrupeds, and with all his voracity he is 
an arrant poltroon. A child of ten years will easily 
put him to flight. 

A second species is the hyena which so much an- 
noyed the celebrated Bruce, while travelling in Ab’ 
yssinia, and may be appropriately named 4 ‘ Bruce’s 
hyena.” This is also a striped hyena, and nearly all 
naturalists have set him down as of the same species 
with the Hyena vulgaris. Excepting the “ stripes,” 
there is no resemblance whatever between the two 
species ; and even these are differently arranged 
while the ground-color also differs. 

Bruce’s hyena is nearly twice the size of the com 
mon kind, with twice his strength, courage, and 
ferocity. The former will attack not only large 
quadrupeds, but man himself ; will enter houses by 
night, even villages, and carry off domestic animals 
and children. 

Incredible as these statements may appear, about 
their truth there can be no doubt ; such occurrences 
are by no means rare. 

This hyena has the reputation of entering grave- 
yards, and disinterring the dead bodies to feed upon 
them. Some naturalists have denied this. For what 
reason? It is well known that in many parts of 
Africa the dead are not interred, but thrown out on 

p 


182 


A CHAPTER UPON HYENAS. 


the plains. It is equally well known that the hyenas 
devour the bodies so exposed It is known, too, 
that the hyena is a “ terrier " — a burrowing animal. 
What is there strange or improbable in supposing 
that it burrows to get at the bodies, its natural food ? 
The wolf does so, the jackal, the coyote, ay, even 
the dog. I have seen all of them at it on the battle* 
field. Why not the hyena ? 

A third species is very distinct from either of the 
two described — the “spotted hyena " {Hyena era- 
outa). This is also sometimes called the “ laughing " 
hyena, from the peculiarity we have had occasion to 
speak of. This species in general color is not un- 
like the common kind, except that instead of stripes 
his sides are covered with spots. He is larger than 
the Hyena vulgaris, and in character resembles 
Bruce's, or the Abyssinian hyena. He is a native 
of the southern half of Africa, where he is known 
among the Dutch colonists as the “tiger-wolf," while 
the common hyena is by them simply called “ wolf." 

A fourth species is the “brown hyena" ( Hyena 
villosa). The name “brown" hyena is not a good 
one, as brown color is by no means a characteristic 
of this animal. Hyena villosa, or “hairy hyena," is 
better, as the long, straight hair, falling down his 
sides, gives him a peculiar aspect, and at once dis- 
tinguishes him from any of the others. He is equally 
as large and fierce as any, being of the size of a 
St. Bernard mastiff ; but it is difficult to imagine how 
any one could mistake him for either a striped oi 
spotted hyena. His color is dark brown or nearly 
black above, and dirty gray beneath In fact, in 


A CHAPTER UPON HYENAS. 


188 


geueial color and the arrangement of his hair, he is 
not unlike a badger or wolverene. 

And yet many naturalists describe this as being 
of the same species as the common hyena — the 
learned De Blainville among the rest. The most 
ignorant boor of South Africa* — for he is a South 
African animal — knows better than thi's. Their 
very appellation of “ straand-wolf ” points out his 
different habits and haunts ; for he is a sea-shore ani- 
mal, and not even found in such places as are the 
favorite resorts of the common hyena. 

There is still another “ brown hyena,” which dif- 
fers altogether from this one, and is an inhabitant of 
the Great Desert. Ho is shorter-haired, and of uni- 
form brown color, but like the rest in habits and gen- 
eral character. No doubt, when the central parts of 
Africa have been thoroughly explored, several species 
of hyena will be added to the list of those already 
known. 

The habits of the hyenas are not unlike those of 
the larger wolves. They dwell in caves, or clefts of 
rocks. Some of them use the burrows of other ani- 
mals for their laii, which they can enlarge for them- 
selves, as they are provided with burrowing claws. 

They are not tree-climbers, as their claws are not 
sufficiently retractile for that. It is in their teeth 
their main dependence lies, and in the great strength 
of their jaws. 

Hyenas are solitary animals, though often troops 
of them are seen together, attracted by the common 
prey. A dozen or more will meet over a carcass, but 
each goes his own way on leavir g it. They are ex- 


184 


A CHAPTER UPON HYENAS. 


fcremely voracious — will eat up almost anything, even 
scraps of leather or old shoes ! Bones they break and 
swallow as though these were pieces cf tender flesh 
They are bold, particularly with the poor natives, 
who do not hunt them with a view to extermination 
They enter the miserable kraals of the natives, and 
often carry off their children. It is positively true 
that hundreds of children have been destroyed by 
hyenas in Southern Africa. 

It is difficult for you to comprehend why this Is 
permitted ; why there is not a war of extermination 
carried on against the hyenas, until these brutes are 
driven out of the land. You cannot comprehend 
such a state of things, because you do not take into 
account the difference between savage and civil 
ized existence. You will suppose that human life in 
Africa is held of far less value than it is in England ; 
but, if you thoroughly understood political science, 
you would discover that many a law of civilized life 
calls for its victims in far greater numbers than dc 
the hyenas. The empty review, the idle court fete, 
the reception of an emperor, all require, as their nat 
ttval sequence, the sacrifice of many lives. 


A fcoUSE AMONG THE TREE-TOPS. 


185 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

A HOUSE AMONG THE TREE-TOPS 

Ton Bloom now reflected that the hyenas were 
likely to prove a great pest to him. No meat, nor 
anything, would be safe from them ; even his very 
children would be in danger, if left alone in the 
camp ; and no doubt he would often be compelled 
to leave them, as he would require the older ones 
upon his hunting excursions. 

There were other animals to be dreaded still more 
than the hyenas. Even during that night they had 
heard the roaring of lions down by the vley ; and, 
when it was morning, the spoor showed that several 
of these animals had drunk at the water. 

How could he leave little Triiey — his dear little 
Truey — or Jan, who was not a bit bigger — how 
could he leave them in an open camp while such 
monsters were roving about? He could not think 
of doing so. 

He reflected what course he should pursue. At 
first he thought of putting up a house. That would 
necessarily be a work of time. There was no good 
building material convenient. A stone house would 
cost a great deal of labor, as the stones would have 
to be carried nearly a mile, and in their hands, too. 
That would never do, as Yon Bloom might onl) 


1.83 A HOUSE AMONG THE TREE-TOPS. 

remain a short while at that place. He might not 
find many elephants there ; and, of course, would be 
under the necessity of going elsewhere. 

Why not build a log house ? you will say. That 
would not be so much of a job, as part of the country 
was well wooded, and they had an axe. 

True, part of the country was wooded, but in a 
particular manner. With the exception of the nwana- 
trees, that stood at long distances apart, and reg- 
ularly as if they had been planted, there was 
nothing that deserved the name of timber. All the 
rest was mere “ bush,” — a thorny jungle of mimosas, 
euphorbias, arborescent aloes, strelitzias, and the 
horrid zamia plants, beautiful enough to the eye, but 
of no utility whatever in the building of a house. 
The nwanas, of course, were too large for house-logs. 
To have felled one of them would have been a task 
equal almost to the building of a house ; and to have 
made planks of them would have required a steam 
saw-mill. A log house was not to be thought of 
either. 

Now, a frail structure of poles and thatch would 
not have given sufiScient security. An angry rhi- 
noceros, or elephant, would level such a house to 
the ground in a few moments. 

Suppose, too, that there were man-eaters in the 
neighborhood. Swartboy believed that there were, 
and that that region was notorious for them. As it 
was not far from Swartboy 's native country, Yon 
Bloom, who had reason to believe wha+ the Bushman 
tc Id him, was inclined to credit this. What proteo 


A HOUSE AMONG THE TREE-TOPS 


187 


fcion would a frail house afford against the man-eater ? 
Not much, indeed. 

Yon Bloom was puzzled and perplexed. He could 
not commence his hunting excursions until this ques- 
tion was settled. Some place must be prepared, 
where the children would be safe during his absence. 

While revolving the subject in his mind, he hap- 
pened to cast his eyes upward among the branches 
of the nwana-vree. All at once his attention became 
fixed upon those huge limbs, for they had awakened 
within him a stiange memory. He remembered hav- 
ing heard that, in some parts of the country, and 
perhaps not very far from where he then was, the 
natives live in trees . That sometimes a whole tribe, 
of fifty or more, make their home in a single tree ; and 
do so to secure themselves against savage beasts, and 
sometimes equally savage men. That they build 
their houses upon platforms, which they erect upon 
the horizontal branches ; and that they ascend by 
means of ladders, which are drawn up after them at 
night when they go to rest. 

All this Yon Bloom had heard, and all of it is pos- 
itively true. Of course the reflection occurred tc 
him, why could he not do the same ? Why could he 
not build a house in the gigantic nwana? That 
would give him all the security he desired. There 
they could all sleep with perfect confidence of safety. 
There, on going out to hunt, he could leave the chil- 
dren, with the certainty of finding them on his re- 
turn. An admirable idea ! — how about its practica- 
bility ? 

He began to consider this. If he only had planka 


188 


A HOUSE AMONG THE TREE-TOPS. 


to make a staging, or platform, the rest would h« 
easy. Any slight roof would be sufficient up there 
The leaves almost formed a roof. But the flooring, 
— this was the difficulty. Where were planks to be 
got? Nowhere, in that neighborhood. 

His eye at that moment chanced to fall upon the 
wagon. Ha ! there were planks there. But to 
break up his beautiful wagon ? No — no — no ! Such 
a thing was not to be thought of. 

But, stay ! there was no need to break it up, — no 
need to knock out a single nail. It would serve 
every purpose without breaking a splinter off it. The 
fine vehicle was made to take to pieces and put up 
again at will. 

He could take it to pieces. The broad bottom 
alone should remain whole. That, of itself, would be 
the platform. Hurra! 

The field-cornet, excited with the development of 
this fine plan, now communicated it to the others 
All agreed that it was just the thing ; and, as th* 
day was before them, they made no more ado, but 
set about carrying out the design. 

A ladder thirty feet long had first to be constructed. 
This occupied a good while ; but at length a stout 
rough article was knocked up, which served the 
purpose admirably. It gave them access to the 
lowermost limb ; and from this they could construct 
steps to all the others. 

Yon Bloom ascended, and, after careful examina- 
tion, chose the site of the platform. This was to 
rest upon two strong horizontal limbs of equal height, 
and diverging very gradually from each other. The 





















































V 
































































* 


* 




















1 














































































• • 
















l 

* 


* 



























i 


























1 
















































A HOUSE. AMONG THE TREE-TOPS. 


189 


quantity of thick branches in the great tree afforded 
him a choice. 

The wagon was now taken to pieces, — a work of 
only a few minutes, — and the first thing hauled up 
was the bottom. This was no slight performance, 
and required all the strength of the camp. Strong 
“ rheims ” were attached to one end, and these were 
passed over a limb of the tree, still higher up than 
those on which the staging was to rest. One stood 
above to guide the huge piece of plankwork, while 
all the rest exerted their strength upon the ropes 
below. Even little Jan pulled with all his might, 
thougn a, single pound avoidupois weight would 
have been about the measure of his strength. 

The piece was hoisted up, until it rested beauti- 
fully upon the supporting limbs ; and then a cheer 
rose from below, and was answered by Swartboy 
among the branches. 

The Heaviest part of the work was over. The 
boxing of the wagon was passed up, piece by piece, 
and set in its place just as before. Some branches 
were lopped off, to make room for the cap-tent, and 
then it was also hauled up and mounted. 

By the time the sun set everything was in its 
place, and the aerial house was ready for sleeping in 
In fact, that very night they slept in it ; or, as Hans 
jocuiarly termed it, they all went to “ roost.” 

But they did not consider their new habitation 
quite complete as yet. Next day they continued tc 
labor upon it. By means of long poles they extended 
iieir platform from the wagon quite up to the trunk 

Q 


VH A HOUSE AMONG THE TREE-TOPS. 

of the tree, so as to give them a broad terrace to 
move about upon. 

The poles were fast wattled together by rods of 
the beautiful weeping- willow ( Salix Babybnica), 
which is a native of these parts, and several trees of 
which grew by the side of the vley. Upon the top 
of all they laid a thick coating of clay, obtained 
from the edge of the lake ; so that, if need be, they 
could actually kindle a fire, and cook their suppers 
in the tree. 

To make a still finer flooring, they procured a 
quantity of the material of which the ant-hills are 
composed ; which, being of a glutinous nature, makes 
a mortar almost as binding as Roman cement. 

After the main building had been finished off, 
Swartboy erected a platform for himself, and one for 
Totty, in another part of the ample nwana. Above 
each of these platforms he had constructed a roof, or 
screen, to shelter their occupants from rain or dew. 

There was something odd in the appearance of 
these two screens, each of which was about the size 
of an ordinary umbrella. Their oddity consisted in 
the fact that they were ears of the elephant! 


"!HE BAIT'.E OF THE WILD PEACOCKS. 


191 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

THE BATTLE OF THE WILD PEACOCKS 

There was no longer anything to hinder the field 
cornet from commencing the real business of his new 
life, namely, the hunting of the elephant. He :e« 
solved, therefore, to begin at once ; for until he 
should succeed in “bagging” a few of these giant 
animals, he was not easy in his mind. He might 
not be able to kill a single one ; and then what 
would become of all his grand hopes and calcula- 
tions ? They would end in disappointment, and he 
should find himself in as bad a condition as ever. 
Indeed, worse : for to fail in any undertaking is not 
only to lose time, but energy of mind. Success 
begets genius, courage, and self-reliance — all of 
which contribute to new successes ; while failure 
intimidates, and leads to despair. In a psychological 
point of view it is a dangerous thing to fail in any 
undertaking ; and, therefore, before undertaking aDy 
thing, one should be well assured of its being possi 
ble and practicable. 

Now, Von Bloom was not sure that the great de- 
sign he had formed was practicable. But in this case 
he had no choice. No other means of livelihood was 
open to him just then ; and he had resolved to make 
trial of this. He had faith in his calculations, and ho 


i{)2 THE BATTLE OF THE WILD PEACOCKS. 

had also good reason to hope he would succeed ; but 
the thing was yet untried. No wonder he was in 
haste to begin the business — in haste to knew what 
were his chances of success. 

By early day, therefore, he was up and out 
Hendrik and Swartboy only accompanied him, foi 
he could not yet bring himself to leave the children 
with no other protection than Totty — almost as 
much a child as themselves- Hans, therefore, re- 
mained by the camp 

At first the hunters followed the little rivulet that 
ran from the spring and vley. They did so because 
in this direction there was more “ bush ; ” and they 
knew that elephants would be more likely to be 
found in woods than in open places. Indeed, it 
was only near the banks of the stream that any 
great quantity of wood was to be seen. A broa^ 
belt of jungle extended upon each side of it. Afte? 
that, there were straggling groves and clumps ; an^ 
then came the open plains, almost treeless, though 
covered with a rich carpet of grass for some dis 
tance further. To this succeeded the wild karoo 
stretching eastward and westward beyond the react, 
of vision. Along the north, as already mentioned 
trended the line of “bluffs ; ” and beyond these there 
was nothing but the parched and waterless desert 
To the south there lay the only thing that could be 
called “ woods ; ” and although such a low jungle 
could lay no claim to the title of “ forest,” it was. 
nevertheless, a likely enough haunt for elephants. 

The trees consisted chiefly of mimosas — of several 
species ; upon the leaves, roots, and tender shoots 


THE BATTLE OF THE WILD PEACOCKS. 


m 


of which the great ruminant loves to browse. There 
were some “ camel-doorn ” trees, with their shady, 
umbrella-like tops. But above all rose the massive 
heads of the nwanas, giving a peculiar character to 
the landscape. 

The hunters noticed, as they went on, that the 
shannel of the rivulet became wider and larger, and 
that at times — no doubt after great rains — a large 
quantity of water must have run in its bed, form- 
ing a considerable river. But as the channel grew 
larger the reverse was the case with the quantity 
of running water. The further down they proceeded 
this became less and less ; until, at the distance of 
a mile from camp, the current ceased altogether. 

For half a mile further on they found water in 
stagnant pools, but none running. The wide, dry 
channel, however, continued on as before ; and the 
“bush” extended on both sides without interrup- 
tion, so thick that they could only make way by 
keeping in the channel itself. 

As they walked along, several kinds of small game 
were started. Hendrik would gladly have taken a 
shot at some of these, but his father would not per- 
mit him to fire just then. It might frighten away 
the great “ game ” they were in search of, and 
which they might fall in with at any moment. On 
their return, Hendrik might do his best ; an 4 then 
the field-cornet intended to assist him in procuring 
an antelope, as there was no fresh venison in the 
camp. This, however, was a consideration of sec- 
ondary importance, and the first th:ug to be done 
was to try and get a pair of tusks. 


19 A THE BATTLE OF 1HE WILD PEACOCKS. 

There was no objection to Swartboy using hi* 
bow, as that silent weapon would cause no alarm. 
Swartboy had been taken along to carry the axe and 
other implements, as well as to assist in the hunt. 
Of course he had brought his bow and quiver with 
him, and he was constantly on the watch for some- 
thing at which to let fly one of his little poisoned 
arrows. 

He found a mark, at length, worthy of his attention. 
On crossing the plain, to avoid a large bend in the 
channel, they came upon a glade or opening of con- 
siderable size, and in the middle of this glade a huge 
bird appeared standing erect. 

“ An ostrich ! ” exclaimed Hendrik. 

“ No,” replied Swartboy ; “ um ar da pauw.” 

“Yes,” said Yon Bloom, confirming Swartboy’s 
statement, “it is the pauw.” 

Now, a “ pauw,” in the Dutch language, is a “ pea 
cock.” But there are no peacocks in Africa. The 
peacock in its wild state inhabits only Southern Asia 
and the islands of the Indian Archipelago. The bird 
they saw, then, could not be a peacock. 

Neither was it one. And yet it bore some resem- 
blance to a peacock, with its long, heavy tail, and 
wings speckled and ocellated in a very striking man- 
ner, and something like .the “ marbled ” feathers that 
adorn the peacock’s back. It had none of the bril- 
liant colors, however, of that proudest of birds, 
though it was quite as stately, and much larger and 
taller. In fact, its great height and erect attitude 
was why Hendrik at first glance had taken it for an 
cstrich. It was neither peacock nor ostrich, but bo 


THE BATTLE OF THE WILD PEACOCKS. 


195 


loaging to a different genus from either — to the 
genus Otis , or bustard. It was the great bustard of 
South Africa, — the Otis kori, — called “ pauw ” bj> 
the Dutch colonists, on account of itsocellated plum^ 
age, and other points of resemblance to the Indian 
peacock. 

Now, Swartboy, as well as Yon Bloom, knew tbsl 
the pauw was one of the most delicious of fowls for 
the table. But they knew at the same time that it 
was one of the shyest of birds, — so shy that it is 
very difficult to get even a long shot at one. How, 
then, was it to be approached within range of the 
Bushman’s arrow ? That was the point to be con- 
sidered. 

^ fhere it stood, it was full two hundred yards from 
them ; and, had it perceived them, it would soon have 
widened that distance by running off two hundred 
more. I say running off, for birds of the bustard 
family rarely take to wing, but use their long legs 
to escape from an enemy. On this account they are 
often hunted by dogs, and caught after a severe 
chase. Although but poor flyers, they are splendid 
runners, — swift almost as the ostrich itself. 

The pauw, however, had not observed the hunters 
as yet. They had caught a glimpse of it before ap- 
pearing out of the bushes, and had halted as soon as 
they saw it. 

How was Swartboy to approach it ? It was two 
hundred yards from any cover, and the ground was as 
clean as a new-raked meadow. True, the plain was 
not a large one. Indeed, Swartboy was rather sur- 
prised to see a pauw upon so small a one, for these 


m 


THE BATTLE OF THE WILD PEACOCKS- 


birds frequent only the wide open karoos, where they 
can sight their enemy at a great distance. The 
glade was not large, but, after watching the bustard 
for some minutes, the hunters saw that it was re- 
solved to keep near the centre, and showed no dis- 
position to feed in the direction of the thicket on 
either side. 

Any one but a Bushman would have despaired of 
getting a shot at this kori ; but Swartboy did not 
despair. 

Begging the others to remain quiet, he crept for- 
ward to the edge of the jungle, and placed himself 
behind a thick leafy bush. He then commenced 
uttering a call, exactly similar to that made by the 
male of the kori when challenging an adversary to 
combat. 

Like the grouse, the bustard is polygamous, and of 
course terribly jealous and pugnacious, at certain 
seasons of the year. Swartboy knew that it was just 
then the “ fighting season” among the pauws, and 
hoped by imitating their challenge to draw the bird 
— a cock he saw it was — within reach of his arrow. 

As soon as the kori heard the call, he raised him- 
self to his full height, spread his immense tail, 
dropped his wings until the primary feathers trailed 
along the grass, and replied to the challenge. 

But what now astonished Swartboy was, that in- 
stead of one answer to his call, he fancied he heard 
two , simultaneously uttered ! 

It proved to be no fancy, for before he could repeat 
fcae decoy the bird again gave out its note of defiance 


THE BATTLE OF THE WILD PEACOCKS 


191 


axil was answered by a similar call from another 
quarter ! 

Swartboy looked in the direction whence came the 
latter, and there, sure enough, was a second kori, 
that seemed to have dropped from the region of the 
clouds, or, more likely, had run out from the sheltei 
of the bushes. At all events, it was a good way 
towards the centre of the plain, before the hunter 
had observed it. 

The two were now in full view of each other, and 
by their movements any one might see that a com- 
bat was certain to come off. 

Sure of this, Swartboy did not call again, but re 
mained silent behind his bush. 

After a good while spent in strutting and wheeling 
round and round, and putting themselves in the most 
threatening attitudes, and uttering the most insult- 
ing expressions, the two koris became sufficiently 
provoked to begin the battle. They “ clinched ” in 
gallant style, using all three weapons — wings, beak, 
and feet. Now they struck each other with their 
wings, now pecked with their bills ; and at intervals, 
when a good opportunity offered, gave each other a 
smart kick — which, with their long muscular legs, 
they were enabled to deliver with considerable force. 

Swartboy knew that when they were well into the 
fight he might stalk in upon them unobserved ; so 
he waited patiently till the proper moment should 
arrive. 

In a few seconds it became evident he woul 1 not 
nave tc move from his ambush, for the birds were 


198 


THE BATTLE OF THE WILD PEACOCKS. 


fighting towards him. lie adjusted his arrow to the 
string, and waited. 

In five minutes the birds were fighting within thirty 
yards of the spot where the Bushman lay. The twang 
of a bowstring might have been heard by one of the 
koris, had he been listening. The other could not 
possibly have heard it, for before the sound could 
have reached him a poisoned arrow was sticking 
through his ears. The barb had passed through, and 
the shaft remained in his head, piercing it crosswise. 

Of course the bird dropped dead upon the grass, 
less astonished than his antagonist. 

The latter at first imagined he had done it, and be- 
gan to strut very triumphantly around his fallen foe. 

But his eye now fell upon the arrow sticking 
through the head of the latter. He knew nothing 
about that. He had not done that! What the 
deuce — 

Perhaps, if he had been allowed another moment's 
reflection, he would have taken to his heels ; but be- 
fore he could make up his mind about the matter, 
there was another “ twang ” cf the bowstring, 
another arrow whistled through the air, and another 
kori lay stretched upon the grass. 

Swartboy now rushed forward and took possession 
of the game, which proved to be a pair of young 
cockR, in prime condition for roasting. 

Having hung the birds over a high branch, so as 
tc secure them from jackals and hyenas, the hunters 
continued on; and shortly after, having reentered 
the channel Oi the stream, continued to follow it 
downward 


UPON THE SPOOR. 


199 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

UPON THE SPOOR. 

They had not gone above a hundred yards further, 
when they came to one of the pools already spoken 
of. It was a tolerably large one, and the mud around 
its edges bore the hoof-prints of numerous animals. 
This the hunters saw from a distance, but, on reach- 
ing the spot, Swartboy, a little in the advance, turned 
suddenly round, and, with rolling orbs and quivering 
lips, clicked out the words — 

“Mein baas! mein baas! da klow ! spoor ob da 
groot olifant ! ” 

There was no danger of mistaking the spoor of the 
elephant for that of any other creature. There, sure 
enough, were the great round tracks, full twenty-four 
inches in length, and nearly as wide, deeply imprinted 
in the mud by the enormous weight of the animaPs 
body. Each formed an immense hole, large enough 
to have set a gate-post in. 

The hunters contemplated the spoor with emotions 
ox pleasure — the more so that the tracks had been 
recently made. This was evident. The displaced 
mud had not yet crusted, but looked damp and fresh. 
It had been stirred within the hour. 

Only one elephant had visited the pool that night. 
There were many old tracks, but only one fresh 
spoor, and that of an old and very large bull. 


200 


UPON THK SPO* S 


Of course the tracks told this much. To make a 
spoor twenty-four inches long, requires the animal to 
be a very large one ; and to be very large, he should 
be a bull, and an old one too. 

Well, the older and larger the better, provided 
his tusks have not been broken by some accident 
When that happons, they are never recovered again. 
The elephant does cast his tusks, but only in the ju- 
venile state, when they are not bigger than lobster's 
claws ; and the pair that succeeds these is permanent, 
and has to last him for life — perhaps for centuries, 
for no one can tell how long the mighty elephant 
roams over this sublunary planet. 

When the tusks get broken — a not uncommon 
thing — he must remain toothless, or “ tuskless," for 
the rest of his life. Although the elephant may con 
sider the loss of his huge tusks a great calamity, 
were he only a little wiser he would break them off 
against the first tree. It would, in all probability, 
be the means of prolonging his life ; for the hunter 
would not then consider him worth the ammunition 
it usually takes to kill him. 

After a short consultation among the hunters, 
Swartboy started off upon the spoor, followed by 
Von Bloom and Hendrik. It led straight out from 
the channel, and across the jungle. 

Usually the bushes mark the course of an elephant, 
where these are of the sort he feeds upon. In this 
case he had not fed ; but the Bushman, who could 
follow spoor with a hound, had no difficulty in keep* 
lg on the track as fast as the three were able tc 
travel. 


UPON TH3 SPOOR. 


20j 


They emerged into open glades, and after passing 
though several of these, came upon a large ant-hill 
that stood in the middle of one of the openings. The 
elephant had passed close to the ant-hill ; he had 
stopped there a while — stay, he must have lain 
down. 

Von Bloonfdid not know that elephants were in 
the habit of lying down. He had always heard it 
said that they slept standing. Swartboy knew better 
than that. He said that they sometimes slept stand- 
ing, but oftener lay down, especially in districts 
where they were not much hunted. Swartboy consid- 
ered it a good sign that this one had lain down. He 
reasoned from it that the elephants had not been dis- 
turbed in that neighborhood, and would be the more 
easily approached and killed. They would be less 
likely to make off from that part of the country, until 
they, the hunters, had had a “ good pull ” out of them. 

This last consideration was one of great importance. 
In a district where elephants have been much hunted, 
and have learnt what the crack of a gun signifies, a 
single day’s chase will often set them travelling, and 
they will not bring up again until they have gone 
far beyond the reach of the hunters. Not only the 
particular individuals that have been chased act in 
this way, but all the others, as though warned by 
their companions, until not an elephant remains in 
the district. This migratory habit is one of the chief 
difficulties which the elephant-hunter must needs en« 
counter; and, when it occurs, he has no other 
resource but to change his “ sphere of action.” 

On tue other hand, where elephants have remained 


202 


UPON THE SPOOR 


for a long time undisturbed the report of a gun does 
not terrify them, and they will bear a good deal of 
hunting before “ showing their heels ” and leaving 
the place. 

Swartboy, therefore, rejoiced on perceiving that 
the old bull had lain down. The Bushman drew a 
world of conclusions from that circumstance. 

That the elephant had been lying was clear enough 
The abrasion upon the stiff mud of the ant-heap 
showed where his back had rested ; the mark of his 
body was visible in the dust, and a groove-like fur- 
row in the turf had been made by his huge tusk. A 
huge one it must have been, as the impression of it 
testified to the keen eyes of the Bushman. 

Swartboy stated some curious facts about the great 
quadruped, — at least, what he alleged to be facts. 
They were, that the elephant never attempts to lie 
down without having something to lean his shoulders 
against, — a rock, an ant-hill, or a tree ; that he does 
this to prevent himself from rolling over on his back ; 
that when he does by accident get into that position, 
he has great difficulty in rising again, and is almost 
as helpless as a turtle ; and, lastly, that he often 
sleeps standing beside a tree, with the whoVe weight 
of his body leaning against the trunk. 

Swartboy did not think that he leans against the 
trunk when first taking up his position, but that he 
seeks the tree for the shade it affords, and as sleep 
overcomes him he inclines towards it, finding that it 
steadies and rests him. 

The Bushman stated, moreover, that some ele- 
phants have their favorite trees, to which they return 


UPON THE SPOOR. 


203 


again and again to take a nap during the hot mid-day 
hours, — for that is their tima of repose. At night 
they do not sleep. On the contrary, the hours of 
night are spent in ranging about, on journeys to thr 
distant watering-places, and in feeding, though in 
remote and quiet districts they also feed by day, 
so that it is probable that most of their nocturnal 
activity is the result of their dread of their watchful 
enemy, man. 

Swartboy communicated these facts as the hunters 
all together followed upon the spoor. 

The traces of the elephant were now of a different 
character .from what they had been before arriving at 
the ant-hill. He had been browsing as he went. His 
nap had brought a return of appetite, and the wait-a- 
bit thorns showed the marks of his prehensile trunk. 
Here and there branches were broken off, stripped 
clean of their leaves, and the ligneous parts left upon 
the ground. In several places whole trees were torn 
up by their roots, and those, too, of considerable 
size. This the elephant sometimes does to get at 
their foliage, which upon such trees grows beyond 
the reach of his proboscis. By prostrating them, of 
course he gets their whole frondage within easy dis- 
tance of his elastic nose, and can strip it off at 
pleasure. At times, however, he tears up a tree to 
make a meal of its roots, as there are several species 
with sweet, juicy roots, of which the elephant is ex- 
tremely fond. These he drags out of the ground 
with his trunk, having first loosened them with his 
tusks, used as crowbars. At times he fails to effect 
his purpose, and it is only when the ground is loose 


204 


UPON THE SPOOR. 


or wet, as after great rains, that he can uproot th« 
larger kinds of mimosas. Sometimes he is capri- 
cious, and, after drawing a tree from the ground, he 
carries it many yards along with him, flings it to the 
ground root upwards, and then leaves it, after taking 
a single mouthful. Destructive to the forest is the 
passage of a troop of elephants. 

Small trees he can tear up with his trunk alone, 
but to the larger ones he applies the more powerful 
leverage of his tusks. These he inserts under the 
roots, imbedded as they usually are in loose, sandy 
earth, and then, with a quick jerk, he tosses roots, 
trunk, and branches, high into the air ; a wonderful 
exhibition of gigantic power. 

The hunters saw all these proofs of it, as they fol- 
lowed the spoor. The traces of the elephant’s 
strength were visible all along the route. 

It was enough to beget fear and awe, and none of 
them were free from such feelings. With so much 
disposition to commit havoc and ruin in his moments 
of quietude, what would such a creature be in the 
hour of excitement and anger ? No wonder there 
was fear in the hearts of the hunters, unpractised as 
some of them were. 

Still another consideration had its effect upon their 
minds, particularly on that of the Bushman. There 
was every reason to believe that the animal was a 
“ rover ” ( rodeur ), — what among Indian hunters is 
termed a “ rogue.” Elephants of this kind are far 
more dangerous to approach than their fellows In 
fact, under ordinary circumstances, there is no more 
danger in passing through a herd of elephai ts, than 


TJrON TFIE SPOOR. 


205 


there would be in going among a drove of tame oxen 
It is only when the elephant has been attacked, or 
wounded, that h? becomes a dangerous enemy. 

With regard to the “ rover , ” or “ rogue, ” the 
case is quite different. He is habitually vicious ; 
and will assail either man or any other animal on 
sight, and without the slightest provocation. He 
seems to take a pleasure in destruction ; and woe to 
the creature who cross 3S his path and is not of 
lighter heels than himself ! 

The rover leads a solitary life, rambling alone 
through the forest, and never associating with others 
of his kind. He appears to be a sort of outlaw from 
his tribe, banished for bad temper or some other 
fault, to become more fierce and wicked in his out- 
lawry. 

There were good reasons for fearing that the ele- 
phant they were spooring was a “ rover.” His 
being alone was of itself a suspicious circumstance, 
as elephants usually go from two to twenty, or 
even fifty, in a herd. The traces of ruin he had left 
behind him, his immense spoor, all seemed to mark 
him out as one of these fierce creatures. That such 
existed in that district they already had evidence 
Swartboy alleged that the one killed by the rhinoce- 
ros was of this class, else he would not have attacked 
the latter as he had done. There was a good deal 
of probability in this belief of the Bushman. 

Under these impressions, then, it is less to bo 
wondered that our hunters felt some apprehensions 
of danger from the game they were pursuing. 

The spoor grew fresher and fresher. The hunterg 

R 


206 


UPON THE SPOOR. 


saw treefe turned bottom upward, the roots exhibiting 
the marks of the elephant’s teeth, and still wet with 
the saliva from his vast mouth. They saw broken 
branches of the mimosas giving out their odor, that 
had not had time to waste itself. They concluded 
the game could not be distant. 

They rounded a point of timber, the Bushman 
being a little in the advance. 

Suddenly Swartboy stopped and fell back a pace. 
He turned his face upon his companions. His eyes 
rolled faster than ever ; but, although his lips ap- 
peared to move, and his tongue to wag, he was too 
excited to give utterance to a word. A volley of 
clicks and hisses came forth, but nothing articulate. 

The others, however, did not require any words to 
tell them what was meant. They knew that Swart- 
boy intended to whisper that he had seen “ da 
oliphant ; ” so both peeped silently around the bush, 
and with theii own eyes looked upon the mighty 
quadruped. 


t 


A ROGUE ELEPHANT. 


201 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

A ROGUE ELEIHANT. 

The elephant was standing in a grove of mokhalO' 
trees. These, unlike the humbler mimosas, have tall 
naked 3 terns, with heads of thick foliage, in form 
resembling an umbrella or parasol. Their pinnate 
leaves of delicate green are the favorite fbod of the 
giraffe ; hence their botanical appellation of Acacia 
giraffce ; and hence also their common name among 
the Dutch hunters of “ cameeldoorns ” (camel- 
thorns). 

The tall giraffe, with his prehensile lip raised 
nearly twenty feet in the air, can browse upon these 
trees without difficulty. Not so the elephant, whose 
trunk cannot reach so high ; and the latter would 
often have to imitate the fox in the fable, were he 
not possessed of a means whereby he can bring the 
tempting morsel within reach — that is, simply by 
breaking down the tree. This his vast strength 
enables him to do, unless when the trunk happens to 
be one of the largest of its kind. 

When the eyes of our hunters first rested upon the 
elephant, he was standing by the head of a prostrate 
mokhala, which he had just broken off near the root 
He was tearing away at the leaves, and filling hif 
capacious stomach. 


208 


A HOGUE ELEPHANT 


As soon as Swartboy recovered the control ovei 
his tongue, he ejaculated, in a hurried whisper — 

“ Pas op! (take care!) baas Bloom, — hab good 
care — don’t go near um — he da skellum ole klow. 
My footy ! he wicked! — I know de ole bull duy- 
vel.” 

By this volley of queer phrases Swartboy meant 
to caution his master against rashly approaching the 
elephant, as he knew him to be one of the wicked 
sort — in short, a “ rogue.” 

How Swartboy knew this would appear a mys- 
tery, as there were no particular marks about the 
animal to distinguish him from others of his kind. 
But the Bushman, with his practised eye, saw some- 
thing in the general physiognomy of the elephant — 
just as one may distinguish a fierce and dangerous 
bull from those of milder disposition, or a bad from 
a virtuous man, by some expression that one cannot 
define. 

Yon Bloom himself, and even Hendrik, saw that 
the elephant had a fierce and ruffian look. 

They did not stand in need of Swartboy’ s advice 
to act with caution. 

They remained for some minutes gazing through 
the bushes at the huge quadruped. The more they 
gazed, the more they became resolved to make ai 
attack upon him. The sight of his long tusks was 
too tempting to Yon Bloom to admit for a moment 
the thought of letting him escape without a fight. 
A couple of bullets he should have into him, at all 
events ; and, if opportunity offered, a good many 
more, should these not be sufficient. Yen Bloom 


A ROGUE ELEPHANT. 


209 


would not relinquish those fine tusks without a 
struggle. 

He at once set about considering the safest mode 
of attack ; but was not allowed time to mature any 
plan. The elephant appeared to be restless, and 
was evidently about to move forward. He might be 
off in a moment, and carry them after him for miles ; 
or, perhaps, in the thick cover of wait-a-bits get lost 
to them altogether. 

These conjectures caused Yon Bloom to decide at 
once upon beginning the attack, and without any 
other plan than to stalk in as near as would be safe, 
and deliver his fire. He had heard that a single 
bullet in the forehead would kill any elephant ; and 
if he could only get in such a position as to have a 
fair shot at the animal's front, he believed he was 
marksman enough to plant his bullet in the right 
place. 

He was mistaken as to killing an elephant with a 
shot in the forehead. That is a notion of gentlemen 
who have hunted the elephant in their closets, 
though other closet gentlemen, the anatomists, — to 
whom give all due credit, — have shown the thing to 
be impossible, from the peculiar structure of the ele- 
phant's skull and the position of his brain. 

Von Bloom at the time was under this wrong 
impression, and therefore committed a grand mistake. 
Instead of seeking a side shot, which he could have 
obtained with far less trouble, he decided on creep- 
ing round in front of the elephant, and firing right in 
the animal's face. 

Leaving Hendrik and Swartboy to attack hiro 
H 


210 


.1 ROGUE ELEPHANT. 


from behind, he took a ciicuit under cover of the 
bushes ; and at length arrived in the path the 
elephant was most likely to take. 

He had scarcely gained his position, when he saw 
the huge animal coming towards him with silent and 
majestic tread ; and, although the elephant only 
walked, half-a-dozen of his gigantic strides brought 
him close up to the ambushed hunter. As yet the 
creature uttered no cry ; but as he moved Yon 
Bloom could hear a rumbling, gurgling sound, as of 
water dashing to and fro in his capacious stomach. 

Von Bloom had taken up his position behind the 
trunk of a large tree. The elephant had not yet 
seen him, and perhaps would have passed on with- 
out knowing that he was there, had the hunter 
permitted him. The latter even thought of such a 
thing ; for, although a man of courage, the sight of 
the great forest giant caused him for a moment to 
quail. 

But again the curving ivory gleamed in his eyes 
— again he remembered the object that had brought 
him into that situation ; he thought of his fallen for- 
tunes — of his resolve to retrieve them — of his 
children’s welfare. 

These thoughts resolved him. His long roer was 
laid over a knot in the trunk, its muzzle pointed at 
the forehead of the advancing elephant ; his eye 
gleamed through the sights; the loud detonation 
followed, and a cloud of smoke for a moment hid 
everything from his view. 

He could hear a hoarse, bellowing, trumpet-like 
sound ; lie could hear the crashing of branches 


A ROGUE ELEPHANT. 


211 


and the gurgling of water ; and, when the smoke 
cleared away, to his chagrin he saw that the elephant 
was still upon his feet, and evidently not injured in 
the least. 

The shot had struck the animal exactly where the 
hunter had aimed it ; but, instead of inflicting a 
mortal wound, it had only excited the creature to 
extreme rage. He was now charging about, striking 
the trees with his tusks, tearing branches off and 
tossing them aloft with his trunk, though all the 
while evidently in ignorance of what had tickled him 
so impertinently upon the forehead. 

Fortunately for Yon Bloom, a good thick tree 
sheltered him from the view of the elephant. Had 
the enraged animal caught sight of him at that 
moment, it would have been all up with him ; but 
the hunter knew this, and had the coolness to remain 
close and quiet. 

Not so with Swartboy. When the elephant moved 
forward, he and Hendrik had crept after through the 
grove of mokhalas. They had even followed him 
across the open ground into the bush, where Yon 
Bloom awaited him. On hearing the shot, and see- 
ing that the elephant was still unhurt, Swartboy's 
courage gave way ; and, leaving Hendrik, he ran 
back towards the mokhala grove, shouting as he 
wenl . 

His cries reached the ears of the elephant, that at 
once rushed off in the direction in which he heard 
them. In a moment he emerged from the bush, and, 
seeing Swartboy upon the open ground, charged furi- 
ously after the flying Bushman. Hendrik — who had 


212 


A ROGUE El iETHANT. 


stood Lis ground, and in the shelter of the bushes 
was not perceived — delivered his shot as the animal 
passed him. His ball told upon the shoulder, but 
it only served to increase the elephant’s fury. With- 
out stopping, he rushed on after Swartboy, believing 
no doubt, that the poor Bushman was the cause of 
the hurts he was receiving, and the nature of which 
he but ill understood. 

It was but a few moments from the firing of the 
first shot until things took this turn. Swartboy 
was hardly clear of the bushes before the elephant 
emerged also ; and, as the former struck out for the 
mokhala-trees he was scarce six steps ahead of his 
pursuer. 

Swartboy’s object was to get to the grove, in the 
midst of which were several trees of large size. 
One of these he proposed climbing, as that seemed 
his only chance for safety. 

He had not got half over the open ground, when 
he perceived he would be too late. He heard the 
heavy rush of the huge monster behind him ; he 
heard his loud and vengeful bellowing ; he fancied 
he felt his hot breath. There was still a good dis- 
tance to be run. The climbing of the tree, beyond 
the reach of the elephant’s trunk, would occupy 
time. There was no hope of escaping to the tree. 

These reflections occurred almost instantaneously. 
In ten seconds Swartboy arrived at the conclusion 
that running to the tree would not save him ; and all 
at once he stopped in his career, wheeled round, and 
faced the elephant ! 

Not that he had formed any plan of saving hiraeell 


A ROGUE ELEPHANT. 


213 


in that ’Way. It was not bravery, but only despair, 
that caused him to turn upon his pursuer. He knew 
that, by running on, he would surely be overtaken. 
It could be no worse if he faced round ; and, per- 
haps, he might avoid the fatal charge by some dex- 
terous manoeuvre. 

The Bushman was now right in the middle of the 
open ground ; the elephant rushing straight towards 
him. 

The former had no weapon to oppose to his gigan- 
tic pursuer. He had tnrown away his bow — his 
axe too — to run the more nimbly. But neither 
would have been of any avail against such an an- 
tagonist. He carried nothing but his sheepskin 
kaross. That had encumbered him in his flight ; but 
he had held on to it for a purpose. 

His purpose was soon displayed. 

He stood until the extended trunk was within 
three feet of his face ; and then, flinging his kaross 
so that it should fall over the long cylinder, he 
sprang nimbly to one side, and started to run back 

He would, no doubt, have succeeded in passing to 
the elephant’s rear, and thus have escaped ; but as 
the kaross fell upon the great trunk it was seized in 
the latter, and swept suddenly around. Unfortu- 
nately Swartboy’s legs had not yet cleared the circle 
— the kaross lapped around them - - and the Bush- 
man was thrown sprawling upon the plain. 

In a moment the active Swartboy recovered his 
feet, and was about to make off in a new direction. 
But the elephant, having discovered the deception 
of the kaross, had droppe* ff, and turned suddenly 


214 


A ROGUE ELEPHANT. 


after him. Swartboy had hardly made three steps, 
when the long ivory curve was inserted between his 
legs from behind, and the next moment his body 
was pitched high into the air. 

Von Bloom and Hendrik, who had ji/st then 
reached the edge of the glade, saw him go up ; but, 
to their astonishment, he did not come to the ground 
again ! Had he fallen back upon the elephant’s 
tusks, and was he held there by the trunk ? No. 
They saw the animal’s head. The Bushman was not 
there, nor upon his back, nor anywhere to be seen 
In fact, the elephant seemed as much astonished as 
they at the sudden disappearance of his victim. The 
huge beast was turning his eyes in every direction, 
as if searching for the object of his fury. 

Where could Swartboy have gone ? Where ? At 
this moment the elephant uttered a loud roar, and 
was seen rushing to a tree, which he now caught in 
his trunk, and shook violently. Yon Bloom and 
Hendrik looked up towards its top, expecting to see 
Swartboy there. 

Sure enough he was there, perched among the 
leaves and branches where he had been projected 
Terror was depicted in his countenance, for he felt 
that he was not safe in his position. But he had 
scarce time to give utterance to his fears ; for the 
next moment the tree gave way with a crash, and 
fell to the ground, bringing the Bushman down among 
its branches. 

It happened that the tree, dragged down by the 
elephant’s trunk, fell towards the animal. Swartboy 
even touched the elephant’s body in his descent, and 


A ROGUE ELEPHANT. 


215 


slipped down over his hind quarters. The branches 
had broken the fall, and the Bushman was still 
unhurt, but he felt that he was now quite at the 
mercy of his antagonist. He saw no chance of 
escape by flight. He was lost ! 

J ust at that moment an idea entered his mind, — 
a sort of despairing instinct, — and, springing at one 
of the hind legs of the quadruped, he slung his arms 
around it, and held fast. He at the same time 
planted his naked feet upon the sabots of those of 
the animal ; so that, by means of this support, he 
was enabled to keep his hold, let the animal move as 
it would. 

The huge mammoth, unable to shake him off, 
unable to get at him with his trunk, and, above 
all, surprised and terrified by this novel mode of 
attack, uttered a shrill scream, and, with tail erect 
and trunk high in air, dashed off into the jungle. 

Swartboy held on to the leg until fairly within the 
bushes ; and then, watching his opportunity, he 
slipped gently off. As soon as he touched terra 
firma again, he rose to his feet, and ran with all his 
might in an opposite direction. 

He need not have run a single step ; for the ele- 
phant, as much frightened as he, kept on through 
the jungle, laying waste the trees and branches 
in his onward course. The huge quadruped did not 
stop till he had put many miles between himself and 
the scene of his disagreeable adventure. 

Yon Bloom and Hendrik had by this time reloaded, 
and were advancing to Swartboy’s rescue ; but they 


216 


A ROGUE ELEPHANT. 


were met right in the teeth by the swift-flying Busli 
man, as he returned from his miraculous escape- 

The hunters, who were now warmed to their wurk, 
proposed to follow up the spoor ; but Swartboy, who 
had had enough of that “ old rogue , ” declared that 
there would be not the slightest chance of again 
coming up with him without horses or dogs ; and, as 
they had neither, spooring him any further would be 
quite useless. 

Von Bloom saw that there was truth in the remark, 
and now more than ever did he regret the loss of his 
horses. The elephant, though easily overtaken on 
horseback, or with dogs to bring him to bay, can as 
easily escape from a hunter on foot ; and once he has 
made up his mind to flight, it is quite a lost labor to 
follow him further. 

It was now too late in the day to seek for othei 
elephants ; and with a feeling of disappointment the 
hunters gave up the chase, and turned their steps iu 
the direction cf the camp. 


THE MISSING HUNTER, AND THE WILDEBEESTS. 217 


CHAPTER XXX. 

THE MISSING HUNTER, AND THE WILDEBEESTS, 

A well-known proverb says that' “misfortunes 
seldom come single.” 

On nearing the camp, the hunters could perceive 
that all was not right there. They saw Totty with 
Triiey and J an standing by the head of the ladder ; 
but there was something in their manner that told 
that all was not right. Where was Hans ? 

As soon as the hunters came in sight, Jan and 
Triiey ran down the rounds, and out to meet them. 
There was that in their glances that bespoke ill 
tidings, and their words soon confirmed this con- 
jecture. 

Hans was not there — he had gone away hours 
ago — they knew not where, they feared something 
had happened to him — they feared he was lost. 

“ But what took him away from the camp ? ” 
asked Yon Bloom, surprised and troubled at the 
news. 

That, and only that, could they answer. A num- 
ber of odd-looking animals — very odd-looking, the 
children said — had come to the vley to drink. Hans 
had taken his gun and followed them in a great hurry, 
telling Triiey and Jan to keep in the tree, and not 


213 THE MISSING HUNTER. AND WILDEBEESTS. 

come down until he returned. He would be gone 
only a very little while, and they needn't fear. 

This was all they knew. They could not even teli 
what direction he had taken. He went by the lower 
end of the vley ; but soon the bushes hid him from 
their view, and they saw no more of him. 

“ At what time was it ? ” 

It was many hours ago, — in the morning, in fact, 
— not long after the hunters themselves had started. 
When he did not return the children grew uneasy ; 
but they thought he had fallen in with papa and 
Hendrik, and was helping them to hunt, and that 
was the reason why he stayed so long. 

“ Had they heard any report of a gun ? ” 

No — they had listened for that, but heard none 
The animals had gone away before Hans could get 
his gun ready ; and they supposed he had to follow 
some distance before he could overtake them — that 
might be the reason they had heard no shot. 

“ What sort of animals were they ? ” 

They had all seen them plain enough, as they 
drank. They had never seen any of the kind before. 
They were large animals, of a yellow-brown color, 
with shaggy manes, and long tufts of hair growing 
out of their breasts, and hanging down between their 
fore legs. They were as big as ponies, said Jan, 
and very like ponies. They curveted and capered 
about just as ponies do sometimes. Triiey thought 
that they looked more like lions. 

“ Lions ! ” ejaculated her father and Hendrik* 
with an accent that betokened alarm 


TElE missing hunter, and wildebeests. 219 

Indeed, they reminded her of lions, Triiey Again 
affirmed, and Totty said the same. 

“ How many were there of them ? ” 

“ 0 ! a great drove — not less than fifty.” They 
could not have counted them, as they were con- 
stantly in motion, galloping from place to place, 
and butting each other with their horns. 

“ Ha ! they had horns then ? ” interrogated You 
Bloom, relieved by this announcement. 

Certainly they had horns, replied all three. 

They had seen the horns, — sharp-pointed ones, 
which first came down, and then turned upwards in 
front of the animals’ faces. They had manes, too, 
Jan affirmed ; and thick necks that curved like that 
of a beautiful horse ; and tufts of hair like brushes 
upon their noses ; and nice round bodies like ponies ; 
and long, white tails that reached near the ground, 
just like the tails of ponies ; and finely-shaped limbs, 
as ponies have. 

“I tell you,” continued Jan, with emphasis, “if 
it hadn’t been for their horns and the brushes of 
long hair upon their breasts and noses, I’d have 
taken them for ponies before anything. They gal- 
loped about just like ponies when playing, and ran 
with their heads down, curving their necks and toss- 
ing their manes, — ay, and snorting, too, as I ’ve 
heard ponies ; but sometimes they bellowed more 
like bulls ; and, I confess they looked a good deal 
like bulls about the head ; besides, I noticed they had 
hoofs split like cattle. 0 ! I had a good look at them 
while Hans was loading his gun. They stayed by 
the water till he was nearly ready ; and when they 


220 THE MISSING HUNTER, AND WILDEBEESTS. 

galloped off, they went in a long string, one behind 
the other, with the largest one in front, and anothei 
large one in the rear.” 

“ Wildebeests ! ” exclaimed Hendrik. 

“ Gnoos ! ” cried Swartboy. 

“ Yes, they must have been wildebeests,” said 
Yon Bloom ; “ Jan's description corresponds exactly 
to them.” 

This was quite true. Jan had correctly given 
many of the characteristic points of that, perhaps, 
the most singular of all ruminant animals, the wilde- 
beest, or gnoo ( Catoblepas gnoo). The brush-like 
tuft over the muzzle, the long hair between the fore 
legs, the horns curving down over the face, and then 
sweeping abruptly upward, the thick curving neck, 
the rounded, compact, horse-shaped body, the long 
whitish tail, and full flowing mane — all were de- 
scriptive of the gnoo. 

Even Triiey had not made such an unpardonable 
mistake. The gnoos, and particularly the old bulls, 
bear a very striking resemblance to the lion ; so much 
so that the sharpest hunters at a distance can scarce 
tell one from the other. 

Jan, however, had observed them better than 
Triiey ; and, had they been nearer, he might have 
further noticed that the creatures had red, fiery eyes, 
and a fierce look ; that their heads and torns were 
not unlike those of the African buffalo; that their 
limbs resembled those of the stag, while the rest 
corresponded well enough to his “ pony.” He might 
have observed, moreover, that the males were larger 
than the females, and of a deeper brown. Had there 


VHE MISSING HUNTER, AND WILDEBEESTS. 


221 


Oeen any “ calves ” with the herd, he would have 
seen these were still lighter colored — in fact, of a 
white or cream color. 

The gnoos that had been seen were the common 
kind, called by the Dutch colonists “wildebeests,” 
or wild oxen, and by the Hottentots “ gnoo,” or 
“ gnu,” from a hollow moaning sound to which these 
creatures sometimes give utterance, and which is 
represented by the word “ gnoo-o-oo.” 

They roam in vast flocks upon the wild karoos of 
South Africa ; are inoffensive animals, except when 
wounded ; and then the old bulls are exceedingly 
dangerous, and will attack the hunter both with 
horns and hoof. They can run with great swiftness, 
though they scarce ever go clear off, but, keeping at 
a wary distance, circle around the hunter, curveting 
in all directions, menacing with their heads lowered 
to the ground, kicking up the dust with their heels, 
and bellowing like bulls, or indeed like lions — for 
their “rout” bears a resemblance to the lion’s 
roar. 

The old bulls stand sentry while the herd is feed- 
ing, and protect it both in front and rear. When 
running off they usually go in single file, as Jan had 
represented. 

Old bulls hang between the rear of the herd and 
Lie hunter ; and these caper back and forward, but- 
ting each other with their horns, and often fighting 
apparently in serious earnest. Before the huntei 
comes within range, however, they drop their con 
flict, and gallop out of his way. Nothing can exceed 


222 THE MISSING HUNTER, AND WILDEBEESTS. 

the capricious antics which these animals indulge in, 
while trooping over the plain. 

There is a second species of the same genus com- 
mon in South Africa, and a third inhabits still fur- 
ther to the north ; but of the last very little ia 
known. Both species are larger than the wilde- 
beest, individuals of either being nearly five feet in 
height, while the common gnoo is scarce four. 

The three kinds are quite distinct, and never herd 
together, though each of them is often found in com- 
pany with other animals. All three are peculiar to 
the continent of Africa, and are not found else- 
where. 

The “brindled gnoo” ( Gatoblepas gorgon) is the 
other species that inhabits the south of Africa. It is 
known among the hunters and colonists as “ blauw 
wildebeest” (blue wild ox). It is of a bluish color, — 
hence the name, — and “ brindled ” or striped along 
the sides. Its habits are very similar to those of 
the common gnoo, but it is altogther a heavier and 
duller animal, and still more eccentric and ungainly 
in its form. 

The third species ( Gatoblepas taurina ) is the 
“ ko-koon ” of the natives. It approaches nearer 
to the brindled gnoo in form and habits ; but, as it 
is not found except in the more central and less- 
travelled portions of Africa, less is known about it 
than either of the others. It is, however, of the 
same kind ; and the three species, differing widely 
from any other animals known, are entitled to form 
a distinct and separate genus. 

They have hitherto generally been classed with 


THE MISSING HUNTER, AND WILDEBEESTS. 223 

the ai telopeu, though for what reason it is hard to 
tell. They have far less affinity with the antelope 
than «vith the ox ; and the every day observations of 
the hunter and frontier boor have guided them to a 
similo> conclusion — as their name for these animals 
(wild f ten) would imply. Observation of this class 
is usu* <ly worth far more than the “ speculations ” 
of the fliset-naturalist. 

The £noo has long been the favorite food of the 
frontic/r farmer and hunter. Its beef is well flavored, 
and the veal of a gnoo-calf is quite a delicacy. The 
hide is manufactured into harness and straps of dif- 
ferent sorts ; and the long silky tail is an article of 
commerce. Around every frontier farm-house large 
piles of gnoo and spring-bok horns may be seen — 
the remains of animals that have been captured in 
the chase. 

“Jaging de wildebeest” (hunting the gnoo) is 
a favorite pastime of the young boors. Large herds 
of these animals are sometimes driven into valleys, 
where they are hemmed in, and shot down at will. 
They can also be lured within range, by exhibiting 
i red handkerchief, or any piece of red cloth — to 
ivhich color they have a strong aversion. They may 
oe tamed and domesticated easily enough ; but they 
are not favorite pets with the farmer, who dreads 
their communicating to his cattle a fatal skin dis- 
ease, to which the gnoos are subject, and which car- 
ries off thousands of them every year. 

Of course Von Bloom and his companions did not 
stay to talk over these points. They were too 


224 THE MISSING HUNTER, AND WILDEBEESTS. 

anxious about the fate of the missing 1 Hans, to think 
of anything else. 

They were about to start out in search of him, 
when just at that moment my gentleman was seen 
coming around the end of the lake, trudging very 
slowly along, under the weight of some large and 
heavy object, that he carried upon his shoulders. 

A shout of joy was raised, and in a few momenta 
Qans stood in their midst. 


THE ANT-EATER OF AFRICA. 


22h 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

THE ANT-EATER OF AFRICA. 

H AN8 was saluted by a volley of questions, “ WLera 
Dave you been ? What detained you ? What has 
aappened to you ? You Ye all safe and sound ? Not 
aurt, I hope ? ” These and a few others were asked 
hi a breath. 

“ I 'm sound as a bell,” said Hans ; “ and, for the 
rest of your inquiries, I ’ll answer them all as soon 
as Swartboy has skinned this * aard-vark/ and Totty 
has cooked a piece of it for supper ; but I 'm too 
hungry to talk now, — so pray excuse me.” 

As Hans gave this reply, he cast from his shoub 
ders an animal nearly as big as a sheep, covered 
with long bristly hair of a reddish-gray color, and 
having a huge tail, thick at the root, and tapering 
like a carrot ; a snout nearly a foot long, but quite 
slender and naked ; a very small mouth ; erect pointed 
ears, resembling a pair of horns ; a low, flattish body ; 
short, muscular legs, and claws of immense length, 
especially on the fore feet, where, instead of spread- 
ing out, they were doubled back like shut fists, or 
the fore hands of a monkey. Altogether a very odd 
animal was that which Hans had styled an “aard 
vark,” and which he desired should be cooked for 
supper. 


15 


T 


226 


THE ANT-EATER OF AFRICA 


“Well, my boy,” replied Von Bloom, “we '11 ex- 
cuse you, the more so that we are all of us about as 
hungry as yourself, I fancy. But I think we may 
as well leave the 1 aard-vark ’ for to-morrow’s din- 
ner. We’ve a couple of peacocks here, and Totty 
will get one of them ready sooner than the aard- 
vark.” 

“ As for that,” rejoined Hans, “ I don’t care which ; 
I ’m just in the condition to eat anything, even a 
steak of tough old quagga, if I had it ; but I think 
it would be no harm if Swartboy — that is, if you ’re 
not too tired, old Swart — would just peel the skin 
off this gentleman.” 

Hans pointed to the “aard-vark.” 

“ And dress him so that he don’t spoil,” he con 
tinued ; “ for you know, Swartboy, that he ’s a tit- 
bit, — a regular bonne bouche, — and it would be a 
pity to let him go to waste in this hot weather. An 
aard-vark ’s not to be bagged every day.” 

“You spreichen true, Mynheer Hans, — Swartboy 
know all dat. Him skin an dress da go up.” 

And, so saying, Swartboy out knife and set to 
work upon the carcass. 

Now, this singular-looking animal, which Hans 
sailed an “aard-vark,” and Swartboy a “goup,” 
vas neither more nor less than the African ant-eater 
( Orycteropus Gapensis). 

Although the colonists term it “ aard-vark,” which 
is the Dutch foi “ ground-hog,” the animal has but 
little in common with the hog kind. It certainly 
bears some resemblance to a pig about the snout 
and cheeks ; and that, with its bristly hair and bur 


THE ANT-EATER OF AFRICA. 


22T 


rowing habits, has, no doubt, given rise tc the mis* 
taken name. The “ ground ” part of the title is from 
the fact that it is a burrowing animal, — indeed, one 
of the best “ terriers ” in the world. It can make 
its way under ground faster than the spade can fol- 
low it, and faster than any badger. In size, habits, 
and the form of many parts of its body, it bears a 
striking resemblance to its South America^ cousin, 
the “ tamanoir ” (Myrmecophaga jubata), which of 
late years has become so famous as almost to usurp 
the title of “ ant-eater.” But the “ aard-vark ” is 
just as good an ant-eater as he, — can “crack” as 
thick-walled a house, can rake up and devour as 
many termites as any “ ant-bear” in the length and 
breadth of the Amazon valley. He has got, more- 
over, as “ tall ” a tail as the tamanoir, very nearly 
as long a snout, a mouth equally small, and a tongue 
as extensive and extensile. In claws he can com- 
pare with his American cousin, any day ; and can 
walk just as awkwardly upon the sides of his fore 
paws, with “ toes turned in.” 

Why, then, may I ask, do we hear so much talk 
of the “tamanoir,” while not a word is said of the 
“ aard-vark ” ? Every museum and menagerie is 
bragging about haying a specimen of the former, 
while not one cares to acknowledge their possession 
of the latter. Why this envious distinction ? I say 
it 's all Barnum. It 's because the “ aard-vark ” 's a 
Dutchman — a Cape boor — and the boors have been 
much bullied of late. That 's the reason why zoolo- 
gists and showmen have treated my thick- tailed boy 
so shabbily. But it shan't be so any longer; I 


228 


THE ANT-EATER OF AFRICA. 


stand up for the aard-vark ; and, although the tama* 
noir has been specially called Mijrmecophaga, or ant* 
eater, I say that the Orycteropus is as good an ant* 
eater as he. He can break through ant-hills quite 
as big, and bigger, — some of them twenty feet high, 
— he cau project as long and as gluey a tongue, — 
twenty inches long, — he can play it as nimbly, and 
“ lick up ” as many white ants, as any tamanoir. 
He can grow as fat, too, and weigh as hravy, and, 
what is greatly to his credit, he can pro\ ide you 
with a most delicate roast when you choose to kill 
and eat him. It is true he tastes slightly of formic 
acid, but that is just the flavor that epicures admire. 
And when you come to speak of “hams,” — ah 1 try 
hisl Cure them well and properly, and eat one, and 
you will never again talk of “ Spanish,” or “ West 
phalian.” 

Hans knew the taste of those hams — well he did, 
and so, too, Swartboy ; and it was not against his 
inclination, but con amove, that the latter set about 
butchering the “goup.” 

Swartboy knew how precious a morsel he held be- 
tween his fingers, — precious not only on account 
of its intrinsic goodness, but from its rarity ; for 
although the aard-vark is a common animal in South 
Africa, and in some districts even numerous, it is 
not every day the hunter can lay his hands upon 
one. On the contrary, the creature is most difficult 
tc capture ; though not to kill, for a blow on the 
snout will do that. 

But, just as he is easily killed when you catch 
him, in the same proportion is he hard to catch He 


THE ANT-EATER OP AFRICA. 


229 


is shy and wary ; scarce ev^r comes out of his bur- 
row but at night, and, even then, skulks so silently 
along, and watches around him so sharply, that no 
enemy can approach without his knowing it. Hia 
eyes are very small, and, like most nocturnal ani- 
mals, he sees but indifferently ; but in the two senses 
of smell and hearing he is one of the sharpest. Hia 
long erect ears enable him to catch every sound that 
may be made in his neighborhood, however slight. 

The “ aard-vark ” is not the only ant-eating quad- 
ruped of South Africa. There is another four-footed 
creature as fond of white ants as he ; but this is an 
animal of very different appearance. It is a creature 
without hair ; but, instead, its body is covered all 
over with a regular coat of scales, each as large as 
a half-crown piece. These scales slightly overlie 
each other, and can be raised on end at the will of 
the animal. In form it resembles a large lizard, or 
a small crocodile, more than an ordinary quadruped, 
but its habits are almost exactly like those of the 
aard-vark. It burrows, digs open the ant-hills by 
night, projects a long, viscous tongue among the 
insects, and devours them with avidity. 

When suddenly overtaken, and out of reach of its 
underground retreat, it “ clews ” up like the hedge- 
hog, and some species of the South American arma- 
dillos, to which last animal it bears a considerable 
resemblance, on account of its scaly coat of mail. 

This ant-eater is known as the “pangolin,” 01 
“ manis ; ” but there are several species of “ pan 
golin ” not African. Some are met with in Southern 
Asia and the Indian islands. That which is found 

T 


230 


THE ANT-EATER OF AFRICA 


in South Africa is known among naturalists as the 
“long-tailed,” or “Temminck,” pangolin ( Manis 
Temminckii). 

Totty soon produced a roasted “peacock,” or 
rather a hastily-broiled bustard. But, although, per- 
haps, not cooked “ to a turn,” it was sufficiently well 
done to satisfy the stomachs for which it was in- 
tended. They were all too hungry to be fastidious 
and without a word of criticism they got through 
their dinner. 

Hans then commenced relating the history of hi* 
day’s adventure. 


HANS CHASED BY THE WILDEBEEST 


231 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

HANS CHASED BY THE WILDEBEEST. 

“ Well;” began Hans, “you had not been gone 
more than an hour, when a herd of wildebeests was 
seen approaching the vley. They came on in single 
file ; but they had broken rank, and were splashing 
about in the water, before I thought of molesting 
them in any way. 

“ Of course I knew what they were, and that they 
were proper game ; but I was so interested in watch- 
ing their ludicrous gambols that I did not thins 
about my gun until the whole herd had nearly fin- 
ished drinking. Then I remembered that we were 
living on dry biltongue, and would be nothing the 
worse of a change. I noticed, moreover, that in the 
herd of gnoos there were some young ones, which I 
was able to tell from their being smaller than the 
rest, and also by their lighter color. I knew that 
the flesh of these is most excellent eating, and there- 
fore made up my mind we should all dine upon it. 

“ I rushed up the ladder for my gun, and then dis- 
covered how imprudent I had been in not loading it 
at the time you all went away. I had not thought 
of any sudden emergency, — but that was very fool- 
ish, for how knew I what might happen in a single 
oour, or minute, even ? 


232 


«ANS CHASED BY THE WILDEBEEST. 


“ I loaded the piece in a grand hurry, for I saw 
the wildebeests leaving the water ; and, as soon as 
the bullet was rammed home, I ran down the ladder. 
Before I had reached the bottom I saw that I had 
forgotten to bring either powder-horn or pouch. I 
was in too hot haste to go back for them, for I saw 
the last of the wildebeests moving off, and I fancied 
I might be too late. But I had no intention of going 
any great distance in pursuit. A single shot at 
them was all I wanted, and that in the gun would do. 

“ I hastened after the game, keeping as well as I 
could under cover. I found, after a little time, that 
I need not have been so cautious. The wildebeests, 
instead of being shy, — as I had seen them in our 
old neighborhood, — appeared to have very little fear 
of me. This was especially the case with the old 
bulls, who capered and careered about within a 
hundred yards’ distance, and sometimes permitted 
me to approach even nearer. It was plain they had 
never been hunted. 

“ Once or twice I was within range of a pair of 
old bulls, who seemed to act as a rear-guard. But I 
did not want to shoot one of them. I knew their 
flesh would turn out tough. I wished to get some- 
thing more tender. I wished to send a bullet into a 
heifer, or one of the young bulls, whose horns had 
not yet begun to curve Of these I saw several in 
the herd. 

“ Tame as the animals were, I could not manage 
to get near enough to any of these. The old bulls 
at the head always led them beyond my range ; and 


HANS CHASED BY THE WILDEBEEST. 


233 


the two that brought up the rear seemed to drive 
them forward as I advanced upon them. 

“ Well, in this way they beguiled me along for 
more than a mile ; and the excitement of the chase 
made me quite forget how wrong it was of me to go 
so far from the camp. But, thinking about the meat, 
and still hopeful of getting a shot, I kept on. 

“ At length the hunt led me into ground where 
there was no longer any bush ; but there was good 
cover, notwithstanding, in the ant-hills, that, like 
great tents, stood at equal distances from each other 
scattered over the plain. These were very large, — 
some of them more than twelve feet high, — and 
differing from the dome-shaped kind so common 
everywhere. They were of the shape of large cones, 
or rounded pyramids, with a number of smaller cones 
rising around their bases, and clustering like turrets 
along their sides. I knew they were the hills of a 
species of white ant, called by entomologists Termes 
bellicosus. 

11 There were other hills, of cylinder shape and 
rounded tops, that stood only about a yard high, 
looking like rolls of unbleached linen set upright, 
each with an inverted basin upon its end. These 
were the homes of a very different species, the Ter- 
mes mordax of the entomologists ; though still 
another species of Te vies ( T . atrox) build their 
nests in the same form. 

“ I did not stop then to examine these curious 
structures. I only speak of them now to give you 
an idea of the sort of place it was, so that you may 
understand what followed. 


234 


HANS CHASED BY THE WILDEBEEST. 


“ What with the cone-shaped hills and the cylin 
ders, the plain was pretty well covered. One or the 
other was met with every two hundred yards ; and 
I fancied, with these for a shelter, I should have but 
little difficulty in getting within shot of the gnoos. 

“ I made a circuit to head them, and crept up be- 
hind a large cone-shaped hill, near which the thick 
of the drove was feeding. When I peeped through 
the turrets, to my chagrin, I saw that the cows and 
younger ones lia! been drawn off beyond reach, and 
the two old bulls were, as before, capering between 
me and the herd. 

“ I repeated the manoeuvre, and stalked in behind 
another large cone, close to which the beasts were 
feeding. When I raised myself for a shot, I was 
again disappointed. The herd had moved off as 
before, and the brace of bulls still kept guard in the 
rear. 

“ I began to feel provoked. The conduct of the 
bulls annoyed me exceedingly, and I really fancied 
that they knew it. Their manoeuvres were of the 
oddest kind, and some of them appeared to be made 
for the purpose of mocking me. At times they 
would charge up very close, their heads set in a 
menacing attitude ; and I must confess that, with 
their black shaggy fronts, their sharp horns, and 
glaring red eyes, they looked anything but pleasant 
neighbors. 

“ I got so provoked with them, at last, that I re- 
solved they should bother me no longer. If they 
would not permit me to shoot one of the others, I 
was determined they themselves should not escape 


HANS CHASED BY THE WILDEBEEST. 


23c 


dcot-free, but should pay dearly for their temerity 
and insolence. I resolved to put a bullet through 
one of them, at least. 

“ Just as I was about raising my gun to fire, I 
perceived that they had placed themselves in atti- 
tude for a new fight. This they did by dropping on 
their knees, and sliding forward until their heads 
came in contact. They would then spring up, make 
a sudden bound forward, as if to get uppermost, and 
trample one another with their hoofs. Failing in 
this, both would rush past, until they were several 
yards apart ; then wheel round, drop once more to 
their knees, and advance as before. 

“ Hitherto I had looked upon these conflicts as 
merely playful ; and so, I fancy, most of them were. 
But this time the bulls seemed to be in earnest. The 
loud cracking of their helmet-covered foreheads 
against each other, their fierce snorting and bellow- 
ing, and, above all, their angry manner, convinced 
me that they had really quarrelled, and were serious 
about it. 

“ One of them at length seemed to be getting 
knocked over repeatedly. Every time he had par- 
tially risen to his feet, and before he could quite 
recover them, his antagonist rushed upon him and 
butted him back upon his side. 

“ Seeing them so earnestly engaged, I thought 1 
might as well make a sure shot of it, by going a 
littbj nearer ; so I stepped from behind the ant-hill, 
and walked towards the combatants. Neither took 
any notice of my approach, — the one because he 
had enough, to do to guard himself from the terrible 


236 


HANS CHASED BY THE WILDEBEEST. 


blows, and the other because he was so occupied in 
delivering them. 

“ When within twenty paces I levelled my gun. 
I chose the bull who appeared victor, partly as a 
punishment for his want of feeling in striking a fallen 
antagonist, but perhaps more because his broadside 
was towards me, and presented a fairer mark. 

“ J fired. 

1 ; The smoke hid both for a moment. When it 
cleared off, 1 saw the bull that had been conquered 
still down in a kneeling attitude ; but, to my great 
surprise, the one at which I had aimed was upon his 
feet, apparently as brisk and sound as ever ! I knew 
I had hit him somewhere, as I heard the ' thud ’ of 
the bullet on his fat body ; but it was plain I had 
not crippled him. 

“ I was not allowed time for reflection as to where 
i had wounded him. Not an instant, indeed, for the 
moment the smoke cleared away, instead of the bulls 7 
clearing off also, I saw the one I had shot at fling up 
his tail, lower his shaggy front, and charge right 
towards me. 

“ His fierce eyes glanced with a revengeful look, 
and his roar was enough to have terrified one more 
courageous than I. I assure you I was less fright- 
ened the other day when I encountered the lion. 

“ I did not know what to do for some moments 
I thought of setting myself in an attitude of defence, 
and involuntarily had turned my gun, which was now 
empty, intending to use it as a club. But I saw at 
once that the slight blow I could deliver would not 
stop the onset of such a strong, fierce animal, and 



imm 

rS&Cr&ff 


PTf*! 













































. 























































£'\ 








































» • 























^NS CHASED BY THE WILDEBEEST. 237 

tl tt he would butt me ever, and gore me, t:> a cer 
tainty. 

“ I turned my eyes to see what hope there lay in 
flight. Fortunately they fell upon an ant-hill — the 
one I had just emerged from. I saw at a glance 
that by climbing it I would be out of reach of the 
fierce wildebeest. Would I have time to get to it 
before he could overtake me ? 

“ I ran like a frightened fox. You, Hendrik, can 
beat me running upon ordinary occasions. I don’t 
think you could have got quicker to that ant-hill 
than I did. 

“ I was not a second too soon. As I clutched at 
the little turrets, and drew myself up, I could hear 
the rattle of the wildebeest’s hoofs behind me, and I 
fancied I felt his hot breath upon my heels. 

“ But I reached the top cone in safety ; and then 
turned and looked down at my pursuer. I saw that 
he could not follow me any furthei Sharp as hia 
horns were, I saw that I was safe out of their reach. 


238 


BESIEGED BY THE BULL. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

BESIEGED BY THE BULL. 

‘ Well,” continued Hans, after a pause, “ I 
gan to congratulate myself on my fortunate escape ; 
for I was convinced that but for the ant-hill I would 
have been trampled and gored to death. The bull 
was one of the largest and fiercest of his kind, and a 
very old one too, as I could tell by the bases of his 
thick black horns nearly meeting over his forehead, 
as well as by his' dark color. I had plenty of time 
to note these things. I felt that I was now safe — 
that the wildebeest could not get near me ; and I sat 
perched upon the top of the central cone, watching 
his movements with perfect coolness. 

“ It is true he did everything to reach my posi- 
tion. A dozen times he charged up the hill, and 
more than once effected a lodgment among the tops 
of the lower turrets, but the main one was too steep 
for him. No wonder ! It had tried my own powers 
to scale it. 

11 At times he came so close to me, in his desperate 
efforts, that I could have touched his horns with the 
muzzle of my gun ; and I had prepared to give him 
a blow whenever I could get a good chance. I never 
saw a creature behave so fiercely The fact was, 
that I had hit him with my bullet — the wound was 


BESIFGED BY THE BULL. 


239 


there along his jaw, and bleeding freely. The pain 
of it maddened him ; but that was not the only cause 
of his fury, as I afterwards discovered. 

“ Well. After several unsuccessful attempts to 
scale the cone, he varied his tactics, and commenced 
butting the ant-heap as though he would bring it 
down. He repeatedly backed, and then charged 
forward upon it with all his might ; and, to say the 
truth, it looked for some time as though he would 
succeed. 

“ Several of the lesser cones were knocked over 
by his powerful Mows; and the hard, tough clay 
yielded before his sharp horns, used by him as 
inverted pickaxes In several places I could see 
that he had laid open the chambers of the insects, or 
rather the ways and galleries that are placed in the 
outer crust of the hill. 

“ With all this I felt no fear. I was under the 
belief that he would soon exhaust his rage and go 
away ; and then I could descend without danger. 
But, after watching him a good long spell, I was not 
a little astonished to observe that, instead of cooling 
down, he seemed to grow mor& furious than ever. I 
had taken out my handkerchief to wipe the perspira- 
tion off my face. It was as hot as an oven where I 
sat. Not a breath of air was stirring, and the rays 
of the sun, glaring right down and then reflecting up 
again from the white clay, brought the perspiration 
out of me in streams. Every minute I was obliged 
to rub my eyes clear of it with the handkerchief. 

“ Now, before passing the kerchief over my face 
I always shook it open ; and each time I did so, ] 


240 


BESIEGED BY THE BULL. 


noticed that the rage of the wildebeest seemed to be 
redoubled. In fact, at such times he would leave 
off goring the heap, and make a fresh attempt to 
rush up at me, roaring his loudest as he charged 
against the steep wall. 

“ I was puzzled at this, as well as astonished. 
What could there be in my wiping my face to pro- 
voke the wildebeest anew ? And yet such was 
clearly the case. Every time I did so, he appeared 
to swell with a fresh burst of passion. 

“ The explanation came at length. I saw that it 
was not the wiping off the perspiration that provoked 
him. It was the shaking out of my handkerchief. 
This was, as you know, of a bright scarlet color. I 
thought of this, and then, for the first time, remem 
bered having heard that anything scarlet has a most 
powerful effect upon the wildebeest, and excites him 
to a rage resembling madness. 

“ I did not wish to keep up his fury. I crumpled 
up the handkerchief and buried it in my pocket; 
preferring to endure the perspiration rather than 
■remain there any longer. By hiding the scarlet, I 
. conceived a hope he would the sooner cool down, 
and go away. 

“ But I had raised a devil in him too fierce to be 
so easily laid. He showed no signs of cooling down. 
On the contrary, he continued to charge, butt, and 
bellow, as vengefully as ever — though the scarlet 
was no longer before his eyes. 

“ I began to feel really annoyed. I had no idea 
the gnoo was so implacable in his rage. The bull 
evidently felt pain from his wound. I could perceive 


BESIEGED B7 THE BULL. 


241 


that he moaned it. He knew well eni ugh it was I 
who had given him this pain. 

“ He appeared determined not to let me escape 
retribution . He showed no signs of an intention to 
leave the place ; but labored away with hoof and 
hums, as if he would demolish the mound. 

“ I was growing very tired of my situation. Though 
net afraid that the bull could reach me, I was troubled 
by the thought of being so long absent from our camp. 
I knew I should have been there. I thought of my 
little sister and brother. Some misfortune might 
befall them. I was very sad about that, though up 
to that time I had little or no fears for myself. I 
was still in hopes the wildebeest would tire out and 
leave mie, and then I could soon run home. 

“ I say, up to that time I had no very serious fears 
for myself, excepting the moment or two when the 
bull was chasing me to the hill ; but that little fright 
was soon over. 

“ But now appeared a new object of dread ; another 
enemy, as terrible as the enraged bull, that almost 
caused me to spring down upon the horns of the 
latter in my first moments of alarm. 

“ I have said that the wildebeest had broken down 
several of the lesser turrets, the outworks of the ant- 
hill, and had laid epen the hollow spaces within. 
He had not penetrated to the main dome, but only 
the winding galleries and passages that perforate the 
outer walls. 

“ I noticed that, as soon as these were broken 
open, a number of ants had rushed out from each. 
Indeed, I had observed many of the creatures crawl 
Ifi 


242 


BESIEGED BY THE BULL. 


ing outside the hill, when I first approached it ; and 
had wondered at this, as I knew that they usually 
keep under ground when going and coming from 
their nests. I had observed all this, without taking 
note of it at the time, being too intent in my stalk 
to think of anything else. For the last half-hour I 
was too busy watching the manoeuvres of the wilde- 
beest bull to take my gaze off him, for a moment. 

“ Something in motion directly under me at length 
caught my eye, and I looked down to see what it 
was. The first glance caused me to jump to my 
feet ; and, as I have already said, very nearly im- 
pelled me to leap down upor the horns of the bull. 

“ Swarming all over the hill, already clustering 
upon my shoes, and crawling still higher, were the 
crowds of angry ants. Every hole that the bull had 
made was yielding out its throng of spiteful insects ; 
and all appeared moving towards me. 

“ Small as the creatures were, I fancied I saw 
design in their movements. They seemed all actu- 
ated with the same feeling, the same impulse — that 
of attacking me. I could not be mistaken in their 
intent. They moved all together, as if guided angled 
by intelligent beings ; and they advanced towards 
the spot on which I stood. 

“ T saw, too, that they were the soldiers. I knew 
these from the workers, by their larger heads, and 
long horny mandibles. I knew they could bite 
fiercely and painfully. 

The thought filled me with horror. I confess it, 
I never was so horrified before. My late encounter 
with the lion was nothing to compare with it 


BESIEGED BY THE BULL. 


243 


‘ My first impression was that 1 would be destroyed 
by the termites. I had heard of such things — I 
remembered that I had. It was that, no doubt, that 
frightened me so badly. I had heard of men in their 
sleep being attacked by the white ants, and bitten 
to death. Such memories came crowding upon me 
at the moment, until I felt certain that, if I did not 
soon escape from that spot, the ants would sting ma 
to death and eat me up. 


244 


A HELPLESS BEAST. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

A HELPLESS BEAST. 

“ What was to be done ? How was I to avoid 
both enemies ? If I leaped down, the wildebeest 
would kill me to a certainty. He was still there, 
with his tierce eye bent upon me continually. If I 
remained where I was, I would soon be covered with 
the swarming hideous insects, and eaten up like an 
old rag. 

“ Already I felt their terrible teeth. Those that 
had first crawled to my feet I had endeavored to 
brush off; but some had got upon my ankles, and 
were biting me through my thick woollen socks. 
My clothes would be no protection. 

“ I had mounted to the highest part of the cone, 
and was standing upon its apex. It was so sharp I 
could scarcely balance myself, but the painful stings 
of the insects caused me to dance upon it like a 
mountebank. 

“ But what signified those that had already stung 
my ankles, to the numbers that were likely soon to 
pierce me with their venomous darts ? Already 
these were swarming up the last terrace. They 
would soon cover the apex of the cone upon which I 
was standing. They would crawl up my limbs in 
myriads — they would — 


A HELPLESS BEAST. 


245 


“ I Cc\ild reflect no longer on what they i could do. 
I preferred taking my chance with the wildebeest. 
I would leap down. Perhaps some lucky accident 
might aid me. I would battle with the gnoo, using 
my gun. Perhaps I might succeed in escaping to 
some other hill. Perhaps — 

“ I was actually on the spring to leap down, when 
a new thought came into my mind ; and I wondered 
I had been so silly as not to think of it before. 
What was to hinder me from keeping off the termites ? 
They had no wings; the soldiers have none — nor 
the workers neither, for that matter. They could not 
fly upon me. They could only crawl up the cone. 
With my jacket I could brush them back. Certainly 
I could — why did I not think of it before ? 

“ I was not long in taking off my jacket. I laid 
aside my useless gun, dropping it upon one of the 
lower terraces. I caught the jacket by the collar ; 
and, using it as a duster, I cleared the sides of the 
cone in a few moments, having sent thousands of 
the termites tumbling headlong below. 

11 Pshaw ! how simply the thing was done ! why 
had I not done it before ? It cost scarcely an effort 
to brush the myriads away, and a slight effort would 
keep them off as long as I pleased. 

“ The only annoyance I felt now was from the few 
that had got under my trousers, and that still con- 
tinued to bite me ; but these I would get rid of in 
time. 

“ Well ; I remained on the apex, now bending 
down to beat back the soldiers that still swarmed 
upward, and then occupying myself in trying to get 


246 


A HELPLESS BE48T. 


rid of the few that crawled upon me. I felt no longer 
any uneasiness on the score of the insects, though I 
was not a bit better off as regarded the bull, who 
still kept guard below. I fancied, however, that he 
qow showed symptoms. of weariness, and would soon 
raise the siege ; and this prospect made me feel more 
cheerful. 

“ A sudden change came over me. A new thrill 
of terror awaited me. 

“ While jumping about upon the top of the cone, 
my footing suddenly gave way — the baked clay 
broke with a dead crash, and I sank through the 
roof. My feet shot down into the hollow dome, till 
I thought I must have crushed the great queen in 
her chamber — and I stood buried to the neck. 

“ 1 was surprised, and a little terrified, not by the 
shock I had experienced in the sudden descent ; that 
was natural enough, and a few moments would have 
restored my equanimity ; but it was something else 
that frightened me. It was something that moved 
under my feet as they 1 touched bottom ; ’ some- 
thing that moved and heaved under them, and then 
passed quickly away, letting me still further down. 

“ What could it be ? Was it the great swarm of 
living ants that I pressed upon ? I did not think it 
was. It did not feel like them. It seemed to be 
something bulky and strong, for it held up my whole 
weight for a moment or two, before it slipped from 
under me. 

“ Whatever it was, it frightened me very consid- 
erably ; and I did not leave my feet in its company for 
five seconds’ time. No; the hottest furnace would 


A HELPLESS BEAST. 


247 


scarce have scorched them during the time they 
remained Inside the dark dome. In five seconds 
they were on the walls again ; on the broken edges, 
where I had mounted up, and where I now stood 
quite speechless with surprise. 

“ What next ? I could keep the ants off no longer, 
I gazed down the dark cavity ; they were swarming 
lip that way in thick crowds. I could brush them 
down no more. 

“My eyes at this moment chanced to wander to 
the bull. He was standing at three or four paces’ 
distance from the base of the hill. He was standing 
sideways, with his head turned to it, and regarding 
it with a wild look. His attitude was entirely 
changed, and so, I thought, was the expression of 
his eye. lie looked as if he had just run off to his 
new position, and was ready to make a second start. 
He looked as if something had also terrified him. 

“ Something evidently had ; for, in another mo- 
ment he uttered a sharp rout, galloped several 
paces further out, wheeled again, halted, and stood 
gazing as before. 

11 What could it mean ? Was it the breaking 
through of the roof and my sudden descent that had 
frightened him ? 

“ At first I thought so, but J observed that he did 
not look upward to the top. His gaze seemed bent 
on some object near the base of the hill, though 
from where I stood I could see nothing there to 
frighten him. 

“ 1 had not time to reflect what it could be, 
before the bull uttered a fresh snort, and, raising 


248 


A HELPLESS BEAST 


his tail high into the air, struck off at full gallop ovei 
the plain. 

“ Rejoiced at seeing this, I thought no more of 
what had relieved me of his company. It must have 
been my curious fall, I concluded ; but no matter 
now that the brute was gone. So, seizing hold of my 
gun, I prepared to descend from the elevated posi- 
tion, of which I was thoroughly tired. 

“ Just as I had got half down the side, I chanced 
to look below ; and there was the object that terrified 
the old bull. No wonder. It might have terrified 
anything — the odd-looking creature that it was. 
From out a hole in the clay wall protruded a long, 
naked, cylindrical snout, mounted by a pair of ears 
nearly as long as itself, that stood erect like the 
horns of a steinbuck, and gave to the animal that 
bore them a wild and vicious look. It would have 
badly frightened me, had I not known what it was ; 
but I recognized it at once as one of the most 
inoffensive creatures in the world — the ‘aard-vark.* 

“ His appearance accounted for the retreat of the 
bull, and also explained why the ants had been 
crawling about on my first reaching their hill. 

“ Without saying a word, or making the slightest 
noise, I clubbed my gun, and, bending downward, 
struck the protruded snout a blew with the butt. It 
was a most wicked blow ; and, considering the ser- 
vice the creature had just done me in frightening off 
the wildebeest, a most ungrateful return. But I was 
not master of my feelings at the moment. I did not 
reflect — only that I liked aard-vark flesh - and th« 
blow was given. 


A HELPLESS BEAST. 


249 


“ Poor fellow ! It did the job for him. With scarce 
& kick, he dropped dead in the opening he had scraped 
with his own claws. 

“ Well, my day’s adventures were not yet ended 
They seemed as though they were never to end. 1 
had got the aard-vark over my shoulders, and was 
about heading homeward, when, to my astonishment, 
I observed that the bull-gnoo — not the one that had 
besieged me, but his late antagonist — was still out 
upon the plain where I had last seen him ! I ob- 
served, moreover, that he was still in a sort of half- 
lying, half-kneeling attitude, with his head close to 
the ground. 

“His odd movements seemed stranger than any- 
thing else. I fancied he had been badly hurt by the 
other, and was not able to get away. 

“ At first I was cautious about going near him, — 
remembering my late narrow escape, — and I thought 
of giving him a wide berth, and leaving him alone. 
Even though wounded, he might be strong enough 
to charge upon me ; and my empty gun, as I had 
already proved, would be but a poor weapon with 
which to defend myself. 

“ I hesitated about going near him ; but curiosity 
grew strong within me, as I watched his queer ma- 
noeuvres ; until at length I walked up within a dozes 
yards of where he was kneeling. 

“Fancy my surprise on discovering the cause of 
his oblique movements. No hurt had he received ot 
any kind — not even a scratch ; but, for all that, he 
was as completely crippled as if he had lost his best 
pair of legs. 


250 


A HELPLESS BEAST. 


“ In a very singular manner was he rendered thus 
helpless. In his struggle with the other bull, one of 
his fore legs had, somehow or other, got passed over 
his horn ; and there it stuck, not only depriving him 
of the use of the limb itself, but holding his head so 
close to the ground that he was quite unable to stir 
from the spot 1 

“ At first I designed helping him out of his diffi- 
culty, and letting him go. On second thoughts, I 
remembered the story of the husbandman and the 
frozen snake, which quite changed my intention. 

“ I next thought of killing him for venison ; but, 
having no bullet, I did not like to beat him to death 
with my gun. Besides, the aard-vark was my load to 
camp, and I knew that the jackals would eat the bull 
up before we could go back for him. I thought it 
probable he would be safer left as he was — as these 
ravenous brutes, seeing him alive, might not so 
readily approach him. 

“So I left him with his 'head under his arm/ in 
hopes that we may find him there to-morrow/*’ 

So ended Hans' narrative of his day's adventures. 


THE ELEPHANT S SLEEPING-ROOM. 


251 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

THE ELEPHANT'S SLEEPING-ROOM. 

The field-cornet was far from satisfied with his 
day's work. His first attempt at elephant-hunting 
had proved a failure. Might it not be always so ? 

Notwithstanding the interest with which he lis- 
tened to Hans' narrative of the day's adventures, he 
felt uneasy in his mind when he reflected upon his 
own. 

The elephant had escaped so easily. Their bullets 
seemed to have injured him not the least. They had 
only served to render him furious and dangerous. 
Though both had hit him in places where their 
wounds should have been mortal, no such effect was 
produced. The elephant seemed to go off as un- 
scathed as if they had fired only boiled peas at him. 

Would it be always so ? 

True, they had given him but two shots. Two, if 
well directed, may bring down a cow-elephant, and 
sometimes a bull, but oftener it requires ten times 
two before a strong old bull can be made to “ bite 
the dust." 

But would any elephant wait until they could load 
and fire a sufficient number of shots ? 

That was an undecided point with oar tyro ele- 
phant-hunters. If not, then they would be helpless 


262 


THE ELEPHANTS SLEEPING-ROOM. 


indeed. It would be a tedious business spooring the 
game afoot, after it had once been fired upon. In 
such cases the elephant usually travels many miles 
before halting again ; and only mounted men can 
with any facility overtake him. 

How Yon Bloom sighed when he thought of his 
poor horses ! Now more than ever did he feel the 
want of them — now more than ever did he regret 
their loss. 

But he had heard that the elephant does not 
always make off when attacked. The old bull had 
shown no intention of retreating, after receiving 
their shots. It was the odd conduct of Swartboy 
that had put him to flight. But for that, he would 
no doubt have kept the ground until they had given 
him another volley, and perhaps his death-wound. 

The field-cornet drew consolation from this last 
reflection. Perhaps their next encounter would have 
a different ending. Perhaps a pair of tusks would 
reward them. 

The hope of such a result, as well as the anxiety 
about it, determined Yon Bloom to lose no time in 
making a fresh trial. Next morning, therefore, be- 
fore the sun was up, the hunters were once more 
upon the trail of their giant game. 

One precaution they had taken, which they had 
not thought of before. All of them had heard that 
an ordinary leaden bullet will not penetrate the 
tough, thick skin of the great “pachyderm.” Per- 
haps this had been the cause of their failure on the 
preceding day. If so, they had provided against the 
recurrence of failure from such a cause. They had 


THE ELEPHANT’S SLEEPING-ROOM, 263 

moulded a new set cf balls, of harder material, 
solder, it should have been, but they had none. They 
chanced, however, to be in possession of what 
served the purpose equally well — the old “plate” 
that had often graced the field-cornet’s table in his 
better by-gone days of the Graaf Reinet. This con- 
sisted of candlesticks, and snuffer-trays, and dish- 
covers, and cruet-stands, and a variety of articles of 
the real “ Dutch metal.” 

Some of these were condemned to the alembic of 
the melting-pan ; and, mixed with the common lead, 
produced a set of balls hard enough for the hide of 
the rhinoceros itself; so that this day the hunters 
had no fears of failure upon the score of soft bullets. 

They went in the same direction as upon the pre- 
ceding day, towards the forest, or “bush” (bosch), 
as they termed it. 

They had not proceeded a mile when they came 
upon the spoor of elephants nearly fresh. It passed 
through the very thickest of the thorny jungle — 
where no creature but an elephant, a rhinoceros, oi 
a man with an axe, could have made way A fam- 
ily must have passed, consisting of a male, a female 
or two, and several young ones of different ages. 
They had marched in single file, as elephants usually 
do ; and had made a regular lane several feet wide, 
which was quite clear of bushes, and trampled by 
their immense footsteps. The old bull, Swartboy 
said, had gone in advance, and had cleared the way 
of all obstructions, by means of his trunk and tusks. 
This had evidently been the case ; for the hunters 
observed huge branches broken off, or still hanging 
w 


254 


THE ELEPHANT & SLEEPING-ROOM. 


and turned to one side, out of the way — just as if 
the hand of man had done it. 

Swartbov further affirmed that such elephant- 
roads usually led to water ; and by the very easiest 
and shortest routes, — as if they had been planned 
and laid open by the skill of an engineer, — showing 
the rare instinct or sagacity of these animals. 

The hunters, therefore, expected soon to arrive at 
some watering-place ; but it was equally probable 
the spoor might be leading them from the water. 

They had not followed it more than a quarter of a 
mile, when they came upon another road of a similar 
kind, that crossed the one they were spooring upon. 
This had also been made by a number of elephants, 
— a family, most likely, — and the tracks upon it 
were as recent as those they had been following. 

They hesitated for a moment which to take ; but 
at length concluded upon keeping straight on ; and 
so they moved forward as before. 

To their great disappointment the trail at last led 
out into more open ground, where the elephants had 
scattered about ; and after following the tracks of 
one and then another without success, they got 
bewildered, and lost the spoor altogether. 

While casting about to find it in a place where the 
bush was thin and straggling, Swartboy suddenly 
ran off to one side, calling to the others to follow 
him. Von Bloom and Hendrik went after to see 
what the Bushman was about. They thought he 
had seen an elephant ; and both, considerably ex* 
cited, had already pulled the covers off theii guns. 

There was no elephant, however. When they 


THE ELEPHANT'S SLEEPING-ROOM. 25fc 

came up with Swartboy, he was standing under a 
tree, and pointing to the ground at its bottom. 

The hunters looked down. They saw that the 
ground upon one side of the tree was trampled, as 
though horses or some other animals had been tied 
there for a long time, and had worn off the turf, and 
worked it into dust with their hoofs. The bark of 
the tree — a full-topped shady acacia — for some dis- 
tance up was worn smooth upon one side, just as 
though cattle had used it for a rubbing-post. 

“What has done it?" asked the field-comet and 
Hendrik, in a breath. 

“Da olifant’s slapen-boow" (the elephant’s sleep- 
ing-tree), replied Swartboy. 

No further explanation was necessary. The hunt- 
ers remembered what they had been told about a 
curious habit which the elephant has of leaning 
against a tree while asleep. This, then, was one of 
the sleeping-trees of these animals. 

But of what use to them, further than to gratify a 
little curiosity ? The elephant was not there. 

“Da ole karl come again," said Swartboy. 

“ Ha ! you think so, Swart ? " inquired Von 
Bloom. 

“ Ya, baas, lookee da ! spoor fresh — da groot oli- 
fant hab slap here yesterday." 

“ What then ? you think we should lie in wait, and 
shoot him when he returns ?" 

“No, baas, better dan shoot, we make him bed — 
den wait see um lie do,wn." 

Swartboy grinned a laugh as he gave this piece o 1 
advice. 


2bt> THE ELEPHANT’S SLEEPING-ROOM. 

' ‘ Make his bed J what do you mean ? ” inquired 
tils master 

“ I tell you, baas, we get da olifant sure, if you 
leave da job to ole Swart. I gib you de plan for 
*;ake him, no waste powder, no waste bullet.” 

The Bushman proceeded to communicate his plan> 
to which his master — remembering their failure of 
yesterday — readily gave his consent. 

Fortunately they had all the implements that 
would be necessary for carrying it out, — a sharp 
axe, a strong rope, or “ rheim ” of raw-hide, and 
their knive*, — and they set about the business 
rathou f lo% of time. 


MAKING THE ELEPHANT^ BED. 


257 


CHAPTER XXXVI 

MAKING THE ELEPHANTS BED. 

To the hunters time was a consideration. If the 
elephant should return that day, it would he just 
before the hottest hours of noon. They had, there- 
fore, scarce an hour left to prepare for him — to 
“ make his bed,” as Swartboy had jocosely termed 
it. So they went to work with alacrity, the Bush- 
man acting as director-general, while the other two 
received their orders from him with the utmost 
obedience. 

The first work which Swartboy assigned to them 
was, to cut and prepare three stakes of hard wood. 
They were to be each about three feet long, as thick 
as a man's arm, and pointed at one end. 

These were soon procured. The iron-wood ( Olea 
undulata), which grew in abundance in the neighbor 
hood, furnished the very material ; and after three 
pieces of sufficient length had been cut down with 
the axe, they were reduced to the proper size, and 
pointed by the knives of the hunters 

Meanwhile Swartboy had not been idie Firsts 
with his knife he had cut a large section of bark 
from the elephant's tree, upon the side against which 
the animal had been in the habit of leaning, and 
about three feet from the ground Then with tbd 


258 


MAKING THE ELEPHANTS BED. 


axe he made a deep notch, where the bark had been 
removed ; in fact, such a notch as would have caused 
the tree to fall, had it been left to itself. But it was 
not, for, before advancing so far in his work, Swart* 
boy had taken measures to prevent that. lie had 
stayed the tree by fastening the rheim to its uppei 
branches, on the opposite side, and then carrying the 
rope to the limbs of another tree that stood out in 
that direction. 

Thus adjusted, the elephant’s tree was only kept 
from falling by the rheim-stay, and a slight push in 
the direction of the latter would have thrown it 
over. 

Swartboy now replaced the section of bark, which 
he had preserved ; and, after carefully collecting the 
chips, no one, without close examination, could have 
told that the tree had ever felt the edge of an axe. 

Another operation yet remained to be performed, 
— that was, the planting of the stakes already pre- 
pared by Yon Bloom and Hendrik. To set these 
firmly, deep holes had to be made. But Swartboy 
was just the man to make a hole ; and in less than 
ten minutes he had sunk three, each over a foot 
deep, and not a half-inch wider than the thickness 
of the stakes ! 

You may be curious to know how he accomplished 
this. You would have dug a hole with a spade, and, 
necessarily, as wide as the spade itself. But Swart- 
boy had no spade, and would not have used it if 
there had been one, since it would have made th« 
holes too large for his purpose. 

Swartboy sunk his holes by “ crowing, ” which 


MAKING THE ELEPHANTS BED. 


259 


process lie performed by means of a small pointed 
6tick. With this he first loosened the earth in a 
circle of the proper size. He then took out the de- 
tached mould, flung it away, and used the point of 
the “ cm wing-stick ' ’ as before. Another clearing 
out of mould, another application of the stick ; and 
so on, till the narrow hole was deemed of sufficient 
depth. That was how Swartboy “crowed” the 
holes. 

They were sunk in a kind of triangle, near the bob 
tom of the tree, but on the side opposite to that 
where the elephant would stand, should he occupy 
his old ground. 

In each hole Swartboy now set a stake, thick end 
down and point upwards ; some small pebbles, and 
a little mould worked in at the sides, wedged them 
as firmly as if they had grown there. 

The stakes were now daubed over with soft earth, 
to conceal the white color of the wood ; the remain- 
ing chips were picked up, and all traces of the work 
completely obliterated. This done, the hunters with- 
drew from the spot. 

They did not go far, but, choosing a large bushy 
tree to leeward, all three climbed up into it, and sat 
concealed among its branches. 

The field-cornet held his long “ roer ” in readiness, 
and so did Hendrik his rifle. In case the ingenious 
trap of Swartboy should fail, they intended to use 
their guns, but not otherwise. 

It was now quite noon, and the day had turned 
out one of the hottest. But for the shade afforded 
by the leaves, they would have felt it very distress- 


260 


MAKING THE ELEPHANT^ BED. 


ing. Swartboy prognosticated favorably from th' s 
The great heat would be more likely than anything 
else to send the elephant to his favorite sleeping 
place under the cool, shady cover of the cameeldoorn 

It was now quite noon. He could not be long in 
coming, thought they. 

Sure enough, he came, and soon, too. 

They had not been twenty minutes on their percn, 
when they heard a strange, rumbling noise, which 
they k»ew proceeded from the stomach of an ele- 
phant The next moment they saw one emerge from 
the jungle, and walk with sweeping step straight up 
to t> e tree. He seemed to have no suspicion of any 
danger; but placed himself at once alongside the 
trunk of the acacia, in the very position and on the 
side Swartboy had said he would take. From his 
spoor the Bushman knew he had been in the habit 
of so standing. 

His head was turned from the hunters, but not so 
much as to prevent them from seeing a pair of 
splendid tusks, — six feet long, at the least. 

While gazing in admiration at these rich trophies, 
they saw the animal point his proboscis upward, and 
discharge a vast shower of water into the leaves, 
which afterwards fell dripping in bright globules 
f ver his body. 

Swartboy said that he drew the water from his 
etomach. Although closet-naturalists deny this, it 
must have been so ; for, shortly after, he repeated 
the act again and again, the quantity of water at 
each discharge being as great as before. It was 













MAKING THE ELEPHANT^ BED. 


261 


plain tli&t his trunk, large as it was, could not have 
contained it all. 

He seemed to enjoy this “ shower-bath ; ” and the 
hunters did not wonder at it, for they themselves, 
suffering at the time from heat and thirst, would 
have relished something of a similar kind. As the 
crystal drops fell back from the acacia-leaves, the 
huge animal was heard to utter a low grunt, express- 
ive of gratification. The hunters hoped that this 
was the prelude to his sleep, and watched him with 
intense earnestness. 

It proved to be so. 

As they sat gazing, they noticed that his head 
sunk a little, his ears ceased their flapping, his tail 
hung motionless, and his trunk, now twined around 
his tusks, remained at rest. 

They gaze intently. Now they see his body droop 
a little to one side — now it touches the tree — there 
is heard a loud crack, followed by a confused crash- 
ing of branches, and the huge dark body of the ele- 
phant sinks upon its side. 

At the same instant a terrible scream drowns all 
other sounds, causing the forest to echo, and the 
very leaves to quake. Then follows a confused roar- 
ing, mingled with the noise of cracking branches, 
and the struggles of the mighty brute where he lies, 
kicking his giant limbs along the earth in the agonies 
of death ! 

The hunters remain in the tree. They see that 
the elephant is down — that he is impaled. There 
will be no need for their puny weapons. Their game 
has already received the death-wound. 


r 


262 


MAKING THE ELEPHANVS BED. 


The struggle is of short duration. The painfui 
breathing that precedes death is heard issuing from 
the long proboscis ; and then follows a deep, ominous 
silence. 

The hunters leap down and approach the prostrate 
body. They see that it still lies upon the terrible 
chevaux de frise, where it had fallen. The stakes 
have done their work most effectively. The elephant 
breathes no more. He is dead ! 

********* 

It was the work of an hour to cut out those splen- 
did tusks. But our hunters thought nothing of that ; 
and they were only the more pleased to find each of 
them a heavy load, as much as a man could carry ! 

Yon Bloom shouldered one, Swartboy the other, 
while Hendrik loaded himself with the guns and im- 
plements ; and all three, leaving the carcass tff the 
dead elephant behind them, returned triumphantly 
to camo. 



THE WILD ASSES OF AFRICA 


263 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

rSE WILD ASSES OF AFRICA. 

No-^nus.ANDiNG the success of the day’s hunt 
the mind ot Von Bloom was not at rest. They had 
“bagged” their game, it was true, but in what 
manner? Their success was a mere accident, and 
gave them no earnest of what might be expected in 
the future. They might go long before finding 
another “sleeping-tree” of the elephants, and re- 
peating their easy capture. 

Such were the not very pleasant reflections of the 
field-cornet, on the evening after returning from their 
successful hunt. 

But still less pleasant were they, two weeks later, 
at the retrospect of many an unsuccessful chase from 
which they had returned, when, after twelve days 
spent in “jaging” the elephant, they had added 
only a single pair of tusks to the collection, and 
these the tusks of a cow-elephant, scarce two feet in 
length, and of little value. 

The reflection was not the less painful, that nearly 
every day they had fallen in with elephants, and had 
obtained a shot or two at these animals. That did 
not mend the matter a bit. On the contrary, it 
taught the hunter how easily they could run away 
from him, as they invariably did. It taught him 


264 


THE WILD ASSES OF AFRICA. 


how small his chances were of capturing such game 
so long as he could only follow it afoot . 

The hunter on foot stands but a poor chance with 
the elephant. Stalking in upon one is easy enough, 
and perhaps obtaining a single shot ; but when tb« 
animal trots off through the thick jungle, it is tediou? 
work following him. He may go miles before halt- 
ing, and even if the hunter should overtake him, \i 
may be only to deliver a second shot, and see the 
game once more disappear into the bushes, perhaps 
to be spoored no further. 

Now, the mounted hunter has this advantage. His 
horse can overtake the elephant ; and it is a pecu- 
liarity of this animal, that the moment he finds that 
his enemy, whatever it be, can do that thing, he dis 
dains to run any further, but at once stands to baj ; 
and the hunter may then deliver as many shots a? 
he pleases. 

Herein lies the great advantage of the hunter on 
horseback. Another advantage is the security the 
horse affords, enabling his rider to avoid the charges 
of the angry elephant. 

No wonder Yon Bloom sighed for a horse. No 
wonder he felt grieved at the want of this noble 
companion, that would have aided him so much in 
the chase. 

He grieved all the more, now that he had become 
acquainted with the district, and had found it so full 
of elephants. Troops of a hundred had been seen ; 
and these far from being shy, or disposed to make 
off after a shot or two. Perhaps they had never 


THE WILD ASSES OF AFRICA. 


205 


heard the report of a gun beftjre that of his own long 
roer pealed in their huge ears. 

With a horse, the field-cornet believed he could 
have killed many, and obtained much valuable ivory. 
Without one, his chances of carrying out his design 
were poor indeed. His hopes were likely to end in 
disappointment. 

He felt this keenly. The bright prospects he had 
&c aidently indulged in became clouded over, and 
fears for the future once more harassed him. He 
would only waste his time in this wilderness. His 
children would live without books, without educa- 
tion, without society. Were he to be suddenly called 
away, what would become of them? His pretty 
Gertrude would be no better off than a little savage ; 
his sons would become, not in sport, as he was wont 
to call them, but in reality, a trio of “ Bush-boys.” 

Once more these thoughts filled the heart of the 
father with pain. 0, what would he not have given 
at that moment for a pair of horses, of any sort 
whatever ! 

The field-comet, while making these reflections, 
was seated in the great nwana-tree, upon the plat- 
form that had been built on the side towards the 
lake, and from which a full view could be obtained 
of the water. From this point a fine view could also 
be obtained of the country which lay to the eastward 
of the lake. At some distance off it was wooded, 
but nearer the vley a grassy plain lay spread before 
the eye like a green meadow. 

The eyes of the hunter were turned outward on 
this plain, and just then his glance fell upon a troop 


266 


THE WILD ASSES OP AFRICA 


of animals crossing the open grcjund, and advancing 
towards the vley. 

They were large animals, nearly of the shape and 
size of small horses ; and, travelling in single file, as 
they were, the troop at a distance presented some° 
thing of the appearance of a “cafila,” or caravan. 
There were, in all, about fifty individuals in the line 
and they marched along with a steady, sober pace, 
as if under the guidance and direction of some wise 
leader. How very different from the capricious and 
eccentric movements of the gnoos ! 

Individually, they bore some resemblance to these 
last-named animals. In the shape of their bodies 
and tails, in their general ground color, and in the 
“ brindled ” or tiger-like stripes that could be per- 
ceived upon their cheeks, neck, and shoulders. These 
stripes were exactly of the same form as those upon 
a zebra ; but far less distinct, and not extending to 
the body or limbs, as is the case with the true zebra. 
In general color, and in some other respects, the 
animals reminded one of the ass ; but their heads, 
necks, and the upper part of their bodies, were of 
darker hue, slightly tinged with reddish brown. In 
fact, the new-comers had points of resemblance to 
all four, — horse, ass, gnoo, and zebra, — and yet 
they were distinct from any. To the zebra they bore 
the greatest resemblance, for they were in reality a 
species of zebra — they were quaggas. 

Modern naturalists have divided the Equidce, oi 
horpe family, into two genera — the horse ( equus ) 
and the ass (asinas) — the principal points of distinc- 
tion being, that animals of the horse kind have long 


THE WILD ASSES OF AFRICA. 


261 


flowing manes, full tails, and warty callosities or 
both hind and fore limbs ; while asses, on the con 
trary, have short, meagre, and upright manes, tails 
slender, and furnished only with long hairs at the 
extremity, and their hind limbs wanting the callosi- 
ties. These, however, are found on the fore legs, as 
upon horses. 

Although there are many varieties of the hors6 
genus, scores of them, widely differing from each 
other, they can all be easily recognized by these 
characteristic marks, from the “ Suffolk Punch /- 7 the 
great London drayhorse, down to his diminutive 
little cousin, the “Shetland Pony.” 

The varieties of the ass are nearly as numerous, 
though this fact is not generally known. 

First, we have the common ass ( Asinus vulgaris ), 
the type of the genus ; and of this there are many 
breeds in different countries, some nearly as elegant 
and as highly prized as horses. Next there is the 
“onagra,” “koulan,” or “wild-ass” {A. onager ), 
supposed to be the origin of the common kind. This 
is a native of Asia, though it is also found in the 
north-eastern parts of Africa. There is also the 
“ dziggetai,” or “ great wild-ass ” {A. hemionus), of 
Central and Southern Asia, and another smaller spe- 
cies, the “ghur” (A. Eamar), found in Persia. 
Again, there is the “kiang” (A Hang), met with in 
Ladakh, and the “yo-totze” (A. equulus), an inhab- 
itant of Chinese Tartary. 

All these are Asiatic species, found in a wild state, 
and differing from one another in color, size, form* 


268 


THE WILD ASSES OF AFRICA. 


and even in habits. Many of them are of elegant 
form, and swift as the swiftest horses. 

In this little book we cannot afford room for a 
description of each, but must confine our remarks to 
what is more properly our subject — the wild asses 
of Africa. Of these there are six or seven kinds, 
perhaps more. 

First, there is the “wild ass” (A. onager), which, 
as already stated, extends from Asia into the north- 
eastern parts of Africa, contiguous to the former 
continent. 

Next there is the “koomrah,” of which very little 
is known, except that it inhabits the forests of 
Northern Africa, and is solitary in its habits, unlike 
most of the other species. The koomrah has been 
described as a “ wild horse,” but most probably it 
belongs to the genus asinus. 

Now, there are four other species of “ wild asses ” 
in Africa, — wild horses, some call them, — and a fifth 
reported by travellers, but as yet undetermined. 
These species bear such a resemblance to one another 
in their form, the peculiar markings of their bodies, 
size, and general habits, that they may be classed 
together under the title of the zebra family. First, 
there is the true zebra ( Equus zebra), perhaps the 
most beautiful of all quadrupeds, and of which no 
description need be given. Second, the “dauw,” 
or “ Burchell’s zebra,” as it is more frequently 
called (E. Burchellii). Third, the “ Congo dauw” (E 
hippotigris) , closely resembling the dauw. Fourth, 
the “quagga” ( E . quagga ); and fifth, the undeter 
mined species known as the “white zebra” (E. Isa 


THE WILD ASSJS OF AFRICA. 


269 


Dellinus), so called from its pale yellow, or Isabella 
color. 

Tlnse five species evidently have a close affinity 
with each other, all of them being more or less marked 
with the peculiar transversal bands or “ stripes ” 
which are the well-known characteristics of the 
zebra. Even the quagga is so banded upon the head 
and upper parts of its body. 

The zebra proper is “striped” from the tip of 
the nose to its very hoofs, and the bands are of a 
uniform black, while the ground color is nearly white, 
or white tinged with a pale yellow. The “ dauws,” 
on the other hand, are not banded upon the legs ; 
the rays are not so dark or well-defined, and the 
ground color is not so pure or clean-looking. For 
the rest, all these three species are much alike ; and 
it is more than probable that either “BurchelFs” 
or the “ Congo dauw ” was the species to which the 
name of “zebra” was first applied; for that which 
is now called the “true zebra” inhabits those parts 
of Africa where it was less likely to have been the 
first observed of the genus. At all events, the 
“congo dauw” is the “ hippotigris,” or tiger-horse, 
of the Romans ; and this we infer from its inhabiting 
a more northerly part of Africa than the others, all 
of which belong to the southern half of that conti- 
nent. The habitat of the zebra is said to extend as 
far north as Abyssinia ; but, perhaps, the “ Congo 
dauw,” which certainly inhabits Abyssinia, has been 
mistaken for the true zebra. 

Of the four species in South Africa, the zebra is a 
mountain animal, and dwells among the cliffs, while 


270 


THE WILD ASSES OF AFRICA. 


the dauw and quagga rove over the plains and wild 
karoo deserts. In similar situations to these has 
the “white zebra ” been observed, — though only by 
the traveller Le Vaillant, — and hence the doubt 
about its existence as a distinct species. 

None of the kinds associate together, though each 
herds with other animals. The quagga keeps com- 
pany with the gnoo, the “ dauw ” with the “ brindled- 
gnoo,” while the tall ostrich stalks in the midst of 
the herds of both. 

There is much difference in the nature and dispo- 
sition of the different species. The mountain zebra 
is very shy and wild ; the dauw is almost untama- 
ble ; while the quagga is of a timid, docile nature, 
and may be trained to harness with as much facility 
as a horse. 

The reason why this has not been done is simply 
because the farmers of South Africa have horses in 
plenty, and do not stand in need of the quagga, 
either for saddle or harness. 

But, though Yon Bloom the farmer had never 
thought of “ breaking in ” a quagga, Yon Bloom the 
hunter now did. 


PLANNING THE CAPTURE OF THE QUAGGAS. 271 


CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

PLANNING THE CAPTURE OF THE QUAGGAS. 

Up to this time the field-cornet had scarce deigned 
to notice the quaggas. He knew what they were, 
and had often seen a drove of them — perhaps the 
same one — approach the vley and drink. Neither 
he nor any of his people had molested them, though 
they might have killed many. They knew that the 
yellow oily flesh of these animals was not fit for food, 
and is only eaten by the hungry natives ; that their 
hides, although sometimes used for grain-sacks and 
other common purposes, are of very little value. 
For these reasons, they had suffered them to come 
and go quietly. They did not wish to waste powder 
and lead upon them ; neither did they desire wantonly 
to destroy such harmless creatures. 

Every evening, therefore, the quaggas had drunk 
at the vley and gone off again, without exciting the 
slightest interest. 

Not so upon this occasion. A grand design now 
occupied the mind of Von Bloom. The troop of 
quaggas became suddenly invested with as much in 
terest as if it had been a herd of elephants ; and the 
field-comet had started to his feet, and stood gazing 
upon them, his eyes sparkling with pleasure and ad 
miration. 


272 PLANNING THE CAPTURE OF THE QUaGGAS. 

He admired their prettily-striped heads, their 
plump, well-turned bodies, their light, elegant 
limbs ; in short, he admired everything about them, 

— size, color, and proportions. Never before had 
quaggas appeared so beautiful in the eyes of the vee- 
boor. 

But why this new-born admiration for the despised 
quaggas ? —for despised they are by the Cape farmer, 
who shoots them only to feed his Hottentot servants. 
Why had they so suddenly become such favorites 
with the field-cornet ? That you will understand by 
knowing the reflections that were just then passing 
through his mind. 

They were as follows : 

Might not a number of these animals be caught and 
broken in ? — Why not ? Might they not be trained 
to the saddle ? — Why not ? Might they not serve 
him for hunting the elephant just as well as horses ? 

— Why not ? 

Yon Bloom asked these three questions of him- 
self. Half a minute served to answer them all in the 
affirmative. There was neither impossibility nor 
improbability in any of the three propositions. It 
was clear that the thing could be done, arwd without 
difficulty. 

A new hope sprang up in the heart of the field- 
cornet. Once more his countenance became radiant 
with joy. 

He communicated his thoughts both to the Bush- 
man and “ Bush-boys,” all of whom highly approved 
of the idea, and only wondered that none of them 
had thought of it before. 


PLANKING THE CAPTURE OF THE QUAGGAS. 27 H 

And now the question arose as to how tho quaggas 
were to be captured. This was the first point to be 
settled, and the four — Yon Bloom himself, Hans, 
Hendrik, and Swartboy — sat deliberately down ta 
concoct some plan of effecting this object. 

Of course they could do nothing just then, and the 
drove that had come to drink was allowed to depart 
peacefully. The hunters knew they would return cn 
the morrow about the same hour, and it was towards 
their return that the thoughts of all were bent. 

Hendrik advised “ creasing,” which means send- 
ing a bullet through the upper part of the neck, near 
the withers, and by this means a quagga can be 
knocked over and captured. The shot, if properly 
directed, does not kill the animal. It soon recovers, 
and may be easily “ broken,” though its spirit is 
generally broken at the same time. It is never “ it- 
self again.” Hendrik understood the mode of “ creas- 
ing.” He had seen it practised by the boor-hunters. 
He knew the spot where the bullet should hit. He 
believed he could do it easily enough. 

Hans considered the “ creasing ” too cruel a mode. 
They might kill many quaggas before obtaining one 
that was hit in the proper place. Besides, there 
would be a waste of powder and bullets, — a thing to 
be considered. YHiy could they not snare the ani- 
mals ? He had heard of nooses being set for animals 
as large as the quaggas, and of many being caught 
in that manner. 

Hendrik did not think the idea of snaring a good 
one. They might get one in that way, — the fore- 
most the drove, — but all the others, seeing the 
18 


274 PLANNING THE CAPTURE OF THE QUAGGAS. 

leader caught, would gallop off, and return no more 
to the vley ; and where would they set their snare 
for a second ? It might be a long time before they 
shouM find another watering-place of these animals ; 
whereas they might stalk and crease them upon the 
plains at any time. 

Swartboy now put in his plan It was th q pit-fall. 
That was the way by which Bushmen most generally 
caught large animals, and Swartboy perfectly under- 
stood how to construct a pit for quaggas. 

Hendrik saw objections to this, very similar to 
those he had urged against the snare. The foremost 
of the quaggas might be caught, but the others would 
not be fools enough to walk into the pit after their 
leader had fallen in and laid the trap open. They 
of course would gallop off, and never come back tha 
way again. 

If it could be done at night, Hendrik admitted the 
tbrng might be different. In the darkness several 
might rush in before catching the alarm. But no ; 
the quaggas had always come to drink in the day- 
time. One only could be trapped, and then the 
others, alarmed, would keep away. 

There would have been reason in what Hendrik 
said, but for a remarkable fact which the field-cornet 
himself had observed when the quaggas came to thi 
lake to drink. It was that the animals had invariably 
entered the water at one point, and gone out at 
another. It was of course a mere accident that they 
did so, and owing to the nature of the ground ; but 
such was the case, and Von Bloom had observed it 
on several occasions. They were accustomed to en 


PLANNING THE CAPTURE OF THE QUAGGAS. 275 

ter by the gorge already described, and, after drink 
ing, wade along the shallow edge for some yards, 
and then pass out by another break in the bank. 

The knowledge of this fact was of the utmost im- 
portance, and all saw that at once. A pit-fall dug 
upon the path by which the animals entered the lake 
would no doubt operate as Hendrik said ; one 
might be caught, and all the rest frightened off. But 
a similar trap placed upon the trail that led outward 
would bring about a very different result. Once the 
quaggas had finished drinking, and just at the mo- 
ment they were heading out of the water, the hunt- 
ers could show themselves upon the opposite side, 
set the troop in quick motion, and gallop them into the 
trap. By this means not only one, but a whole pit- 
full, might be captured at once. 

All this appeared so feasible that not another sug- 
gestion was offered ; the plan of the pit-fall was at 
once and unanimously adopted. 

It remained only to dig the pit, cover it properly, 
and then wait the result. 

During all the time their capture was being planned, 
the herd of quaggas had remained in sight, disport- 
ing themselves upon the open plain. It was a tan- 
talizing sight to Hendrik, who would have liked 
much to have shown his marksman skill by “creas- 
ing ” one. But the young hunter saw that it would 
be imprudent to fire at them there, as it would pre- 
vent them from returning to the vley ; so he re- 
strained himself, and, along with the others, remained 
watching the quaggas, all regarding them with a 


276 PLANNING THE CAPTURE OF THE QUAG<£AS. 

degree of interest which they had never before felt 
in looking at a drove of these animals. 

The quaggas saw nothing of them, although quite 
near to the great nwana-tree. They, the hunters, 
were up among the branches, where the animals did 
not think of looking, and there was nothing around 
the bottom of the tree to cause them alarm. The 
wagon-wheels had long ago been disposed of in the 
bush, partly to shelter them from the sun, and partly 
because game animals frequently came within sho* 
of the tree, and were thus obtained without any 
trouble. There were scarce any traces upon the 
ground that would have betrayed the existence of a 
“ camp ” in the tree ; and a person might have passed 
very near without noticing the odd aerial dwelling 
of the hunter family. 

All this was. design upon the part of the field-cor- 
net. As yet he knew little of the country around 
lie did not know but that it might contain worse 
enemies than either hyenas or lions. 

While they sat watching the manoeuvres of the 
quaggas, a movement was made by one of these 
creatures more singular than any that had yet been 
witnessed. 

The animal in question was browsing quietly along, 
and at length approached a small clump of bushes 
that stood out in the open ground. When close to the 
copse, it was observed to make a sudden spring for- 
ward, and almost at the same instant a shaggy creat- 
ure leaped out of the bushes, and ran off. This last 
was no other than the ugly “ striped ” hyena. In- 
stead of turning upon the quagga and showing fight, 


PLANNING THE CAPTURE OF THE QUAGGAS. 271 


as one might have supposed so strong and fierce a 
brute would have done, the hyena uttered a howl of 
alarm, and ran off as fast as its legs would carry it. 

They did not carry it far. It was evidently mak- 
ing for a larger tract of bush that grew near ; but 
before it had got half-way across the open ground, 
the quagga came up behind, and, uttering his shrill 
“ couaag,” reared forward, and dropped with his 
fore-hoofs upon the hyena’s back. At the same in- 
stant the neck of the carnivorous animal was clutched 
by the teeth of the ruminant, and held as fast as if 
grasped by a vice. 

All looked to see the hyena free itself and run off 
again. They looked in vain. It never ran another 
yard. It never came alive out of the clutch of those 
terrible teeth. 

The quagga still held his struggling victim with 
firm hold, trampling it with his hoofs, and shaking it 
in his strong jaws, until in a few minutes the screams 
of the hyena ceased, and his mangled carcass lay 
motionless upon the plain. 

One would think that this incident might have 
been enough to warn our hunters to be cautious 
in their dealings with the quagga. Such a sharp 
biter would be no pleasant horse to “bit and 
bridle.” 

But all knew the antipathy that exists between 
the wild horse and the hyena, and that the quagga, 
though roused to fury at the sight of one of these 
animals, is very different in its behavior towards 
man. So strong, in fact, is this antipathy, and so 
complete is the mastery of the ruminant over th* 
Y 


2T8 PLANNING THE CAPTURE OF THE QUAGGAS. 

carnivorous animal, that the frontier farmers often 
take advantage of these peculiar facts, and keep the 
hyenas from their cattle by bringing up with the 
nerd a number of quaggas, who act as its guards 
and protectois. 


THE PIT-TRAP 


279 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

THE PIT-TRAP. 

While they were watching the movements of the 
quaggas, Yon Bloom rose suddenly to his feet. All 
turned their eyes upon him as he did so. They saw 
by his manner that he was about to propose some* 
thing. What could it be ? 

The thought had just occurred to him that they 
should at once set ab^ut digging the pit. 

It was near sunset — wanting only half an hour of 
it ; and one would suppose he would have done 
better to leave the work till next morning. But no. 
There was a good reason why they should set about 
it at once ; and that was, that they might not be 
able to complete it in time if they did not do part of 
it that night. 

It would be no slight undertaking to dig a pit of 
proper size, for they would require one that would 
at least hold half a dozen quaggas at a time. Then 
there was the carrying away the earth that should 
come out of it, the cutting the poles and branches 
to cover it, and the placing of these in a proper 
manner. 

To do all these things would take up a great deal 
of time ; and they must be all done against tha 
return of the quaggas, else the whole scheme would 


280 


THE PIT-TRAP. 


be a failure. Should the animals arrive upon the 
ground before the pit was covered in and all traces 
of the work removed, they would make off without 
entering the water, and perhaps never visit that 
vley again. 

Such were the conjectures of the field-cornet. 
Hans, Hendrik, and Swartboy, acknowledged their 
justice. All saw the necessity of going to work at 
once, and to work they all went. 

Fortunately, among the “ implements ” were two 
good spades, a shovel, and a pick-axe, and all of 
them could be busy at the same time. There were 
baskets in which the dirt could be carried off, and 
thrown into the deep, channel close by, where it 
would not be seen. This was also a fortunate cir- 
cumstance ; for to have carried the stuff any great 
distance would have made the job still heavier, and 
more difficult to execute in proper time. 

Having marked the outlines of the pit, they went 
to work with spade, shovel, and pick. The ground 
proved tolerably loose, and the pick was but little 
needed. The field-cornet himself handled one of the 
spades, Hendrik the other, while Swartboy acted as 
shoveller, and filled the baskets as fast as Hans and 
Totty ; assisted by Triiey and little Jan, could empty 
them. These last carried a small basket of theii 
own, and contributed very materially to the progress 
of the work, by lightening the labors of Hans and 
Totty. 

And so the work went merrily on until midnight 
and even after that hour, under "the light of a full 


THE PIT-TRAP. 


281 


moon ; by which time the diggers were buried to 
their necks. 

But they were now fatigued. They knew they 
could easily complete the pit next day ; and so they 
laid down their implements, and, after performing 
their ablutions in the crystal water of the stream, 
retired to their sleeping-quarters in the tree. 

By early dawn they were at it again, busy as 
bees ; and the pit progressed so rapidly that before 
they stopped to take breakfast Von Bloom could 
scarce see out of it standing on his toes, and the 
crown of Swartboy’s woolly head was nearly two 
feet below the surface. A little more digging would 
do. 

After breakfast they went to work as briskly as 
ever, and labored away until they considered that 
the hole was sunk to a sufficient depth. It would 
have taken a springbok to have leaped out of it ; and 
no quagga could possibly have cleared itself from 
such a pit. 

Poles and bushes were now cut ; and the pit was 
neatly covered with these, and strewed over, as well 
as a large tract of the adjoining ground, with rushes 
and grass. The most sagacious animal would have 
been deceived by the appearance ; even a fox could 
not have discovered the trap before tumbling into it 

They had completed the work before going to 
dinner, — which, consequently, fell late on that day, 
— so nothing more remained to be done but to dine, 
and await the coming of the quaggas. 

At dinner they were all very merry, notwithstand- 
ing tVie immense fatigue they had gone through. 


282 


THE PIT-TRAP 


The prospect of capturing the quaggas was very 
exciting, and kept the party in high spirits. 

Each offered a prognostication as to the result. 
Some said they would trap three quaggas, at the 
least ; while others were more sanguine, and believed 
they might take twice that number. Jan did not see 
why the pit should not be full ; and Hendrik thought 
this probable enough, considering the way they in- 
tended to drive the quaggas into it. 

It certainly seemed so. The pit had been made 
of sufficient width to preclude the possibility of the 
animals leaping over it, while it was dug lengthwise 
across the path, so that they could not miss it. The 
lay of the ground would guide them directly into it. 

It is true that, were they to be left to themselves, 
and permitted to follow their usual method of march 
ing, — that is, in single file, — only one, the leader, 
might be caught. The rest, seeing him fall in, would 
be sure to wheel round, and gallop off in a different 
direction. 

But it was not the intention of the hunters to leave 
things thus. They had planned a way by which the 
quaggas, at a certain moment, would be thrown into 
a complete panic, and thus forced pell-mell upon the 
pit. In this lay their hopes of securing a large num- 
ber of the animals. 

Foui was as many as were wanted. One for each 
of the hunters Four would do ; but of course it 
mattered not how many more got into the pit. The 
more the better, as a large number would give them 
the advantage of “pick an£ choose.” 

Dinner over, the hunters set about preparing for 


THE PIT-TRAP 


283 


the reception of their expected visitors. As already 
stated, the dinner had been later than usual ; and it 
was now near the hour when the quaggas might be 
looked, for. 

In order to be in time, each took his station. 
Hans, Hendrik, and Swartboy, placed themselves 
in ambush around the lake — at intervals from one 
another ; but the lower end, where the animals 
usually approached and went out, was left quite 
open. Von Bloom remained on the platform in the 
tree, so as to mark the approach of the quaggas, and 
give warning by a signal to the other three. The 
positions taken by these were such that they could 
guide the herd in the direction of the pit, by merely 
coming out of the bushes where they lay concealed. 
In order that they should show themselves simulta- 
neously, and at the proper moment, they were to 
wait for a signal from the tree. This was to be the 
firing of the great “ roer,” loaded blank. Hans and 
Hendrik were also to fire blank shots on discovering 
themselves, and by this means the desired panic 
would be produced. 

The whole scheme was well contrived, and sue 
seeded admirably. The herd appeared filing over 
the plain, just as on the preceding days. Yon Bloom 
announced their approach to the three in ambush, by 
repeating, in a subdued tone, the words, 

“ Quaggas are coming ! ” 

The unsuspecting animals filed through the gorge, 
scattered about in the water, drank their fill, and 
then commenced retiring by the path on which lay 
the trap 


284 


THE PIT-TRAP. 


The leader, having climbed the bank, and seeing 
the fresh grass and rushes strewed upon the path, 
uttered a snorting bark, and seemed half inclined tc 
wheel round. But just at that moment boomed the 
loud detonation of the roer ; and then, like lesser 
echoes, the reports of the smaller guns on the right 
and left, while Swartboy shouted, at the top pitch of 
nis voice, from another quarter. 

A look" back showed the quaggas that they were 
well-nigh surrounded by strange enemies. But one 
course appeared open to them — the way they were 
wont to go ; and, barking with affright, the whole 
drove dashed up the bank, and crowded on towards 
the pit. 

Then was heard a confused noise — the cracking 
of the poles — the trampling of many hoofs — the 
dull sounds of heavy bodies falling together, and 
mingling in a continuous struggle — and the wild 
snorting, as the creatures hurried forward in affright. 
Some were seen springing high in the air, as if to 
overleap the pit. Others poised themselves on their 
hind hoofs, and, wheeling round, ran back into the 
lake. Some dashed off through the bushes, and 
escaped in that way ; but the great body of the 
drove came running back, and, plunging through the 
water, made off by the gorge through which they 
had come. In a few minutes not one was in sight. 

Tne boys thought they had all escaped ; but Yon 
Bloom, from his more elevated position in the tree, 
could perceive the snouts of several protruding 
above the edge of the pit. 

On arriving at the spot, to their great satisfaction 


THE PIT-TRaP. 


285 


the hunters discovered no less than eight full-grown 
quaggas in the trap —just twice the number required 
to mount the party. 

****** 

In less than two weeks from that time four of the 
quaggas were broken to the saddle, and perfectly 
obedient to the bit. Of course there was a good deal 
of kicking, and plunging, and flinging, and many hard 
gallops, and some ugly falls, before it came to this ; 
but both the Bushman Swartboy and the Bush-boy 
Hendrik were expert in the manege of horses, and 
soon tamed the quaggas to a proper degree of 
docility. 

Upon the very first occasion when these animals 
were used in the hunt of the elephant, they rendered 
the very service expected of them. The elephant, as 
usual, bolted after receiving the first shot ; but the 
hunters on “ quagga-back ” were enabled to keep him 
in sight, and follow rapidly upon his heels. As soon 
as the elephant discovered that, run a& he would, his 
pursuers had the power of overtaking him, he dis- 
dained to fly further, and stood to bay ; thus giving 
them the opportunity of delivering shot after shot, 
until a mortal wound brought his huge body to the 
earth. 

Yon Bloom was delighted. His hopes were high ; 
his benignant star was once more in the ascendant. 

He would yet accomplish his design. He would 
yet be rich. A few years would enable him to build 
up his fortune — to construct a pyramid of ivory. 

z 


0 RIVING IN THE ELAND 




CHAPTER XI. 

DRIVING IN THE ELAND. 

Of all the family Hendrik was the hunter par 
excellence. It w«s he who habitually stored the 
larder ; and upon days when they were not engaged 
in the chase ot the elephant, Hendrik would be 
abroad alone in pursuit of antelopes, and other 
creatures, that furnished their usual subsistence. 
Hendrik kept the tabte well supplied. 

Antelopes are the principal game of South Africa 
— for Africa js the country of the antelope above all 
others. You may be surprised to hear that there are 
seventy different species of antelopes over all the earth ; 
that more than fifty of these are African, and that 
thirty, at least, belong to South Africa — that is, the 
portion of the continent lying between the Cape of 
Good Hope and the Tropic of Capricorn. 

It would require the space of a whole book, there- 
fore, to give a fair account — a monograph — of ^he 
antelopes alone ; and I cannot afford that space here. 
At present I can only say that Africa is the great 
antelope country, although many fine species exist 
also in Asia ; that in America there is but one kind, 
the prong-horn , with which you are already well 
acquainted ; and that in Europe there are two f 


DRIVING IN THE ELAND. 


281 


though one of these, the well-known “ chamois,” is 
as much goat as antelope. 

I shall further remark that the seventy species of 
animals by naturalists classed as antelopes differ 
widely from one another in form, size, color, pelage, 
habits ; in short, in so many respects, that their 
classification under the name of Jntelope is very 
arbitrary indeed. Some approximate closely to the 
goat tribe ; others are more like deer ; some resemble 
oxen ; others are closely allied to the buffalo ; while 
a few species possess many of the characteristics of 
wild sheep. 

As a general thing, however, they are more like 
to deer than any other animals ; and many species 
of them are, in common parlance, called deer. 
Indeed, many antelopes are more like to certain 
species of deer than to others of their own kind. 
The chief distinction noted between them and the 
deer is, that the antelopes have horny horns, that 
are persistent or permanent, while those of the deer 
are osseous or bony, and are annually cast. 

Like the deer, the different species of antelope 
possess very different habits. Some frequent the 
wide open plains ; some the deep forest ; some wan- 
der by the shady banks of streams ; while others 
love to dwell upon the rocky steep, or the dry 
navines of the mountains. Some browse upon the 
grass ; while others, goat-like, prefer the leaves and 
tender twigs of trees. In fact, so different are these 
creatures in habits, that whatever be the natural 
character of a district of country, it will be found the 
favorite home cf one or more species. Even the very 


288 


DRIVING IN THE ELAND. 


desert has its antelopes, that prefer the parched 
and waterless plain to the most fertile and verdant 
valley. 

Of all antelopes the “ eland,” or “caana” (,4. 
oreas), is the largest. It measures full seventeen 
hands at the. shoulder, being thus equal in height 
to a very large horse. A large eland weighs one 
thousand pounds. It is a heavily-formed animal, and 
an indifferent runner, as a mounted hunter can gallop 
up to one without effort. Its general proportions are 
not unlike those of a common ox, but its horns are 
straight, and rise vertically from the crown, diverging 
only slightly from one another. These are two feet 
in length, and marked by a ridge that passes spirally 
around them nearly to the tips. The horns of the 
female are longer than those of the male. 

The eyes of the eland, like those of most antelopes, 
are large, bright, and melting, without any expres- 
sion of fierceness ; and the animal, though so very 
large and strong, is of the most innocuous dis- 
position, showing fight only when driven to despe- 
ration. 

The general color of this antelope is dun, with 
a rufous tinge. Sometimes ashy gray touched with 
ochre is the prevailing hue. 

The eland is one of those antelopes that appear to 
be independent of water. It is met with upon the 
desert plains, far from either spring or stream ; and 
it even seems to prefer such situations, — perhaps 
from the greater security it finds there, — though it 
1 6 also a denizen of the fertile and wooded districts. 


DRIVING IN THE ELAND. 


289 


It is gregarious, the sexes herding separately, and 
in groups of from ten to a hundred individuals. 

The flesh of the eland is highly esteemed, and does 
not yield in delicacy to that of any of the antelope, 
deer, or bovine tribes. It has been compared to 
tender beef with a gam * flavor ; and the muscles of 
the thighs when cured and dried produce a bonne 
bouche, known under the odd appellation of “ thigh- 
tongues.” 

Of course the eland, affording such excellent meat, 
and in so large a quantity, is zealously hunted for his 
spoils. Being only a poor runner, and always very 
fat, the hunt is usually a short one ; and ends in the 
eland being shot down, skinned, and cut up. There 
is no great excitement about this chase, except 
that it is not every day an eland can be started. 
The ease with which they can be captured, as well 
as the value of their venison, has led to the thinning 
off of these antelopes ; and it is only in remote dis- 
tricts where a herd of them can be found. 

Now, since their arrival, no elands had been seen, 
though now and then their spoor was observed ; and 
Hendrik, for several reasons, was very desirous of 
getting one. He had never shot an eland in his life 
— that was one reason ; and another was, that he 
wished to procure a supply of the fine venison which 
lies in such quantities over the ribs of these animals 

It was, therefore, with great delight that Hendrik 
one morning received the report that a herd of elands 
had been seen upon the upper plain, and not far off. 
Swartboy, who had been upon the cliffs, brought this 
report to camp. 


290 


DRIVING IN THE ELAND. 


Without losing any more time than sufficed to gel 
the direction from Swartboy, Hendrik mounted his 
quagga, shouldered his rifle, and rode off in search 
of the herd. 

Not far from the camp there was an easy pass, 
leading up the cliff to the plain above. It was a 
Bert of gorge, or ravine ; and from the numerous 
tracks of animals in its bottom, it was evidently 
much used as a road from the upper plain to that in 
which were the spring and stream. Certain animals, 
such as the zebras and quaggas, and others that fre- 
quent the dry desert plains from preference, were in 
the habit of coming by this path when they required 
water. 

Up the gorge rode Hendrik ; and no sooner had he 
arrived at its top, than he discovered the herd of 
elands — seven old bulls — about a mile off upon the 
upper plain. 

There was not cover enough to have sheltered a 
fox. The only growth near the spot where the 
elands were consisted of straggling aloe-plants, 
euphorbias, with some stunted bushes, and tufts of 
dry grass, characteristic of the desert. There was 
no clump large enough to have sheltered a hunter 
from the eye of his game ; and Hendrik at once came 
to the conclusion that the elands could not bo 
“ stalked ” in the situation they then occupied. 

Now, though Hendrik had never hunted this ante- 
lope, he was well acquainted with its habits, and 
knew how it ought to be chased. He knew that it 
was a bad runner ; that any old horse could bring 


DRIVING IN THE ELAND 


( 2d: 


up with it ; and that his quagga — the fastest of the 
four that had been tamed — could do the same. 

It was only a question of “ start,” therefore. 
Could he get near enough the bulls to have a fair 
start, he would run one of them down, to a certainty 
The result might be different should the elands take 
the alarm at a long distance off, and scour away over 
the plain. 

To get within fair starting distance, that was the 
point to be attempted. 

But Hendrik was a wary hunter, and soon accom- 
plished this. Instead of riding direct for the elands, 
he made a grand circuit, until he had got the herd 
between him and the cliff, and then, heading his 
quagga for them, he rode quietly forward. 

He did not sit erect in the saddle, but held him- 
self bent down, until his breast almost touched the 
withers of the quagga. This he did to deceive the 
elands, who would otherwise have recognized him 
as an enemy. In such a fashion they could not 
make out what kind of creature was coming tow- 
ards them ; but stood for a long while gazing at 
Hendrik and his quagga with feelings of curiosity, 
and of course some little alarm. 

They, however, permitted the hunter to get within 
five hundred yards' distance — near enough for him 
— before they broke off in their heavy, lumbering 
gallop. 

Hendrik now rose in his saddle, put spurs to hia 
quagga, and followed the herd at full speed. 

As he had designed, so it came to pass. The 
elands ran straight in the direction of the cliff, — not 


292 


DRIVING IN THE ELAND. 


where the pass was, but where there was none, — 
and, on reaching the precipice, were of course forced 
to turn into a new direction, transverse to their 
former one. This gave Hendrik the advantage, who, 
heading his quagga diagonally, was soon upon the 
heels of the herd. 

It was Hendrik’s intention to single out one of the 
bulls, and run him down, leaving the others to gal 
lop off wherever they wished. 

His intention was carried out ; for, shortly after 
the fattest of the bulls shot to one side, as if tc 
escape in that way, while the rest ran on. 

The bull was not so cunning as he thought him- 
self. Hendrik’s eye was upon him, and in a moment 
the quagga was turned upon his track. 

Another burst carried both game and pursuer 
nearly a mile across the plain. The eland had turned 
from a rufous dun color to that of a leaden blue, 
the saliva fell from his lips in long streamers, foam 
dappled his broad chest, the tears rolled out of his 
big eyes, and his gallop became changed to a weary 
trot. He was evidently “ blown.” 

In a few minutes more the quagga was close upon 
his heels ; and then the huge antelope, seeing that 
further running could not serve him, halted in des- 
pair, and faced round towards his pursuer. 

Now, Hendrik had his loaded rifle in his hand, and 
you expect to hear that he instantly raised it to his 
shoulder, took aim, fired, and brought down the 
eland. 

I must disappoint you, then, by telling you that he 
did qo such thing 


u 


DRIVING IN THE ELAND. 293 

Hendrik was a real hunter — neither rash nor 
wasteful of his resources. He knew a better plan 
than to kill the eland upon the spot. He knew that 
the animal was now quite in his power ; and that he 
could drive him wherever he pleased, just like a 
tame ox. To have killed the creature on the spot 
would have been a waste of powder and shot. More 
than that, it would have rendered necessary all the 
trouble of transporting its flesh to camp — a double 
journey, at least, and with the risk of the hyenas 
eating up most of it in his absence. Whereas he 
could save all this trouble by driving the eland to 
camp ; and this was his design. 

Without firing a shot, therefore, he galloped on 
past the blown bull, headed him, turned him round, 
and then drove him before him in the direction of 
the cliff. 

The bull could make neither resistance nor oppo- 
sition. Now and again he would turn and trot off 
in a contrary direction ; but he was easily headed 
again, and at length forced forward to the top of the 

pass* 


294 


A WILD RIDE ON QUAGGA-BACK 


CHAPTER XLI. 

/ 

A WILD RIDE ON QUAGGA-L AG'K. 

Hendrik was congratulating himself on his suc- 
cess. He anticipated some pleasure in the surprise 
he was about to create at camp when he should 
march in with the eland — for he had no doubt that 
he would succeed in doing so. 

Indeed, there appeared no reason to doubt it. The 
bull had already entered the gorge, and was moving 
down it, while Hendrik and his quagga were hurry- 
ing forward to follow. 

The hunter had arrived within a few yards of the 
top, when a loud trampling noise sounded in his 
ears, as if a band of heavy-footed animals were 
coming up the gorge. 

He spurred his quagga forward, in order to reach 
the edge, and get a view down the ravine. Bef^ie 
he was able to do so, he was surprised to see the 
eland gallop up again, and try to pass him upon the 
plain. It had evidently received fresh alarm from 
something in the gorge, and preferred facing its 
old enemy to encountering the new. 

Hendrik did not give his attention to the eland. 
He could ride it down at any time. He was more 
anxious first to know what had given it the start 




A WIL& RIDE ON QUAGGA-BACK. 


295 s 


backward : so he continued to press forward to the 
head of the ravine. 

He might have thought of lions, and acted with 
gi eater prudence ; but the trampling of hoofs, which 
still echoed up the pass, told him that lions were not 
the cause of the eland’s alarm. 

He at length reached a point where he could see 
down the declivity. He had not far to look, for 
already the animals that were making the noise were 
close up to him ; and he perceived they were nothing 
more than a troop of quaggas. 

He was not over-pleased at this interruption to 
his drive ; and the less did he like it, that the intruders 
were quaggas — ill-conditioned brutes that they were 1 
Had they been game animals, he would have shot 
one ; but the only motive that would have induced 
him to shoot one of the quaggas would have been a 
feeling of anger — for, at that moment, he was really 
angry at them. 

Without knowing it, poor brutes ! they had likely 
given him cause for a good deal of trouble ; for it 
would cost him a good deal before he could head 
the eland again, and get it back into the pass. No 
wonder, then, he was vexed a little. 

But his vexation was not so grievous as to cause 
him to fire upon the approaching herd ; and, turning 
aside, he rode after the eland. 

He had hardly left the spot, when the quaggas 
came out of the pass, following each other to the 
number of forty or fifty. Each, as he saw the mounted 
hunter, started with affright, and bolted off, until the 
whole drove stretched out in a long line over the 


296 


A WILD RIDE ON QUAGGA-BACK. 


plain; snorting and uttering their loud “coua-a-g ; 
as they ran. 

Hendrik would hardly have regarded this move' 
ment, under ordinary circumstances. He had often 
seen herds of quaggas, and was in no way curious 
about them. But his attention was drawn to this 
herd, from his noticing, as they passed him, that 
four of them had their tails docked short ; and from 
this circumstance he recognized them as the four 
that had been caught in the pit-trap and afterwards 
set free. Swartboy, for some purpose of his own, 
had cut off the hair before letting them go. 

Hendrik had no doubt itosvas they, and that the 
herd was the same that used to frequent the vley, 
but that, on account of the ill-treatment they had 
met with, had never since shown themsolves in the 
neighborhood. 

Now, these circumstances, coming into Hendrik's 
mind at the moment, led him to regard the quaggas 
with a certain feeling of curiosity. The sudden 
fright which the animals took on seeing him, and the 
comic appearance of the four with the stumped tails, 
rather inclined Hendrik towards merriment, and he 
laughed as he galloped along. 

As the quaggas went off in the same direction 
which the eland had taken, of course Hendrik’s road 
and theirs lav so far together ; and on galloped he 
at their heels He was curious to try the point — 
much disputed in regard to horses — how far a 
mounted quagga would be able to cope with an un- 
mounted one. He was curious, moreover, to find 
out whether his own quagga was quite equal to any 


% 

A WILD RIDE ON QUAGGA-BaoR . 291 

of its old companions. So on swept the chase — the 
eland leading, the quaggas after, and Hendrik bring- 
ing up the rear. 

Hendrik had no need to ply the spur. His gallant 
steed flew like the wind. He seemed to feel that his 
character was staked upon the race. He gained 
upon the drove at every spring. 

The heavy-going eland was soon overtaken, and 
as it trotted to one side, was passed. It halted, but 
the quaggas kept on. 

Not only the drove kept on, but Hendrik’s quagga 
followed close at their heels ; and in less than five 
minutes they had left the eland a full mile in their 
rear, and were still scouring onward over the wide 
plain. 

What was Hendrik about? Was he going to for- 
sake the eland, and let it escape ? Had he grown 
so interested in the race ? Was he jealous about 
his quagga’s speed, and determined it should beat all 
the others ? 

So it would have appeared to any one witnessing 
the race from a distance. But one who could have 
had a nearer view of it would have given a different 
explanation of Hendrik’s conduct. 

The fact was, that as soon as the eland halted, 
Hendrik intended to halt also ; and for that purpose 
pulled strongly upon his bridle. But, to his aston- 
ishment, he found that his quagga did not share his 
intention. Instead of obeying the bit, the animal 
caught Hie steel in his teeth, and, laying his ears 
back, galloped straight on ! 

Hendrik then endeavored to turn the quagga to 

AA 


9 


29b A WILD RIDE ON QUAGGA-BACK. 

one sida, and for this purpose wrenched his righl 
rein, but with such fierceness that the old bit-ring 
gave way, the bit slipped through the animals jaws, 
the head-stall came off with the jerk, and the quagga 
was completely unbridled. 

Of course the animal was now free to go just as 
he liked, and it was plain that he liked to go with 
his old comrades. His old comrades he well knew 
them to be, as his snorting and occasional neigh of 
recognition testified. 

At first Hendrik was disposed to look upon the 
breaking of his bit as only a slight misfortune. For 
a boy he was one of the best riders in South Africa, 
and needed no rein to steady him. He could keep 
his seat without one. The quagga would soon stop, 
and he could then repair the bit, and readjust the 
bridle, which he still held in his hands. Such were 
his reflections at first. 

But their spirit began to alter When he found that 
the quagga, instead of lessening his pace, kept on as 
hard as ever, and the herd still ran wildly before him, 
without showing the slightest signs of coming to a 
halt. 

In fact, the quaggas were running through fear. 
They saw the mounted hunter behind them in hot 
pursuit, and, although their old comrade knew who 
they were, how were they to tell what he was, with 
such a tall hunch upon his back ? No quagga he, 
but some terrible monster, they imagined, thirsting 
for their lives, and eager to devour one and all of 
them ! 

No wonder they showed their heels in the best 


A WILD RIDE ON $UAGGA-BACK. 


299 


style tliey knew how ; and so well did they show 
them, that Hendrik’s quagga — notwithstanding his 
keen desire to get forward among them, and explain 
away the awkward business upon his back — was 
not able to come an inch closei , 

He did not lose ground; however. His eagerness 
to regain his old associates, to partake once more 
of their wild freedom — for he was desperately tired 
of civilized society, and sick of elephant-hunting — 
all these ideas crowded into his mind at the moment, 
and nerved him to the utmost exertion. Could he 
only get up into the body of the crowd, — for the 
herd now ran in a crowd, — a few whimpers would 
suffice to explain ; they would come to a halt at 
once, — they would gather around him, and assist 
both with hoofs and teeth to get “ shed” of the ugly 
two-legged thing that clung so tightly to his dorsal 
vertebras. 

It was “no go,” however. Although he was so 
close to their heels that they flung dust in his face, 
and small pebbles in the face of his rider, to the no 
slight inconvenience of the latter, — although he 
“ whighered ” whenever he could spare breath, and 
uttered his “ couag, couag ! ” in reality, calling them 
by name, it was “no go.” “ They would not stay, 
they would not hear.” 

And what did Hendrik during all this time ? 
Nothing — he could do nothing. He could not stay 
the impetuous flight of his steed. He dared not dis- 
mount. He would have been hurled among sharp 
rocks had he attempted such a thiig. His neck 


300 


A WILD RIDE ON QUAGGA-BACK. 


would have been broken. He could do nothing — 
nothing but keep his seat. 

What thought he ? At first, not much. At first 
he regarded the adventure lightly. When he was 
about completing his third mile, he began to deem it 
more serious ; and as he entered upon the fifth, he 
became convinced that he was neither more nor less 
than in a very awkward scrape. 

But the fifth mile was left behind, and then a sixth, 
and a seventh ; and still the quaggas galloped wildly 
on — the drove actuated by the fear of losing their 
liberty, and their old comrade by the desire of regain- 
ing his. 

Hendrik now felt real uneasiness. Where were 
they going ? Where was the brute carrying him ? 
Perhaps off to the desert, where he might be lost, and 
perish of hunger or thirst ! Already he was many 
miles from the cliffs, and he could no longer tell their 
direction. Even had he halted then and there, he 
could not tell which way to turn himself. He would 
be lost ! 

He grew more than anxious. He became fright- 
ened in earnest. 

What was he to do ? Leap down, and risk his 
neck in the fall ? He would lose his quagga and his 
saddle as well, — he regarded the eland as already 
lost, — he would have to walk back to camp, and get 
laughed at on his return. 

No matter for all that ; his life was in danger if he 
kept on. The quaggas might gallop twenty, ay, 
fifty miles, before halting. They showed no symp- 
toms of being blown — no signs of giving out. He 


A WILD RIDE ON QUAGGA-BACK 301 

must fling himself to the ground, and let quagga and 
saddle go. 

He had formed this resolution, and was actually 
about to put it in practice. He was just considering 
how he might best escape an ugly fall — looking for 
a soft spot — when, all at once, a grand idea rushed 
into his mind. 

He remembered that in taming this same quagga, 
and breaking him to the saddle, he had been vastly 
aided by a very simple contrivance — that was a 
“ blind.” The blind was nothing more than a piece 
of soft leather tied over the animal’s eyes ; but so 
complete had been its effect, that it had transformed 
the quagga at once from a kicking, screaming creat- 
ure, into a docile animal. 

Hendrik now thought of the blind. 

True, he had none. Was there nothing about him 
that would serve as one ? His handkerchief? No, 
it would be too thin. Hurra ! His jacket would 
do! 

His rifle was in the way. It must be got rid of. 
It must be dropped to the ground. He could return 
for it. 

It was let down as gently as possible, and soon 
left far behind. 

In a twinkling Hendrik stripped off his jacket. 
How was it to be arranged so as to blind the quag, 
ga ? It would not do to drop it. 

A moment’s consideration served the ready boy to 
mature his plan. After a moment he bent down, 
passed a sleeve upon each side under the quagga’s 
throat, and then knotted them together. The jackd 


802 


A WILD RIDE ON QUAGGA-BACK. 


thus rested over the animal's mane, with the collar 
near its withers, and the peak or skirt upon the small 
of its neck. 

Hendrik next leaned as far forward as he could, 
and with his extended arms pushed the jacket up the 
animal's neck, until the skirt passed over its ears, 
and fell down in front of its face. 

It was with some difficulty that the rider, bent 
down as he was, could retain his seat ; for as soon 
as the thick flap of cloth came down over the eyes 
of the quagga, the latter halted as if he had been 
shot dead in his tracks. He did not fall, however, 
but only stood still, quivering with terror. His gal- 
lop was at an end ! 

Hendrik leaped to the ground. He was no longer 
afraid that the quagga, blinded as he now was, would 
make any attempt to get off ; nor did he. 

In a few minutes the broken bit-ring was replaced 
by a strong rheim of raw leather, the bit inserted 
between the quagga's teeth, the head-stall safely 
buckled, and Hendrik once more in the saddle, with 
his jacket upon his back. 

The quagga felt that he was conquered. His old 
associates were no longer in sight to tempt him from 
his allegiance ; and with these considerations, aided 
by a slight dose of bit and spur, he turned his head, 
and moved sullenly upon the back track. 

Hendrik knew nothing about the route he should 
take. He followed back the spoor of the quaggas to 
the place where he had dropped his gun, which after 
riding a mile or two he recovered. 

As there was no sun in the sky, nor other object 


a WILD RIDE ON QUA GOA-BACK. 


303 


to guide him he thought he could not do better than 
trace back the spoor ; and, although it led him by 
many a devious route, and he saw nothing more of 
his eland, before night he reached the pass in the 
cliff, and was soon after sitting under the shadow of 
the nwana-tree, regaling a most interested audience 
^ith the narrative of his day’s adventures 


304 


THE GUN-TRAP. 


CHAPTER XLII. 

THE GUN-TRAP. 

It was auout this time that the field-cornet ami. ms 
people were very much annoyed by beasts of prey. 
The savory smell which their camp daily sent forth, 
as well as the remains of antelopes, killed for their 
venison, attracted these visitors. Hyenas and jack- 
als were constantly skulking in the neighborhood, 
and at night came around the great nwana-tree in 
scores, keeping up their horrid chorus for hours 
together. It is true that nobody feared these ani- 
mals, as the children at night were safe in their 
aerial home, where the hyenas could not get at them 
But, for all that, the presence of the brutes was very 
offensive, as not a bit of meat — not a hide, nor 
rheim, nor any article of leather — could be left be- 
low without their getting their teeth upon it, and 
chewing it up. Quarters of venison they had fre- 
quently stolen, and they had eaten up the leathern 
part of Swartboy’s saddle, and rendered it quite use- 
less for a while. In short, so great a pest had the 
hyenas grown to be, that it became necessary to adopt 
some mode of destroying them. 

It was not easy to get a shot at them. During the 
day they were wary, and either hid themselves in 
caves of the cliff or in the burrows of the ant-eater 


THE GUN-TRAP 


305 


At night they were bold enough, and came into the 
very camp ; but then the darkness hindered a good 
aim, and the hunters knew too well the value of pow- 
der and lead to waste it on a chance shot, — though 
now and then, when provoked by the brutes, they 
ventured one. 

But some way must be thought of to thin the num- 
bers of these animals, or get rid of them altogether. 
This was the opinion of everybody. 

Two or three kinds of traps were tried, but with- 
out much success. A pit they could leap out of, and 
from a noose they could free themselves by cutting 
the rope with their sharp teeth. 

At length the field-cornet resorted to a plan much 
practised by the boors of Southern Africa for ridding 
their farms of these and similar “vermin.” It was 
the “ gun-trap.” 

Now, there are several ways of constructing a gun* 
trap. Of course, a gun is the principal part of the 
mechanism, and the trigger pulled by a string is the 
main point of the contrivance. In some countries 
the bait is tied to the string, and the animal on seiz- 
ing the bait tightens the string, draws the trigger, 
and shoots itself. In this way, however, there is 
always some uncertainty as to the result. The ani- 
mal may not place its body in the proper position 
with regard to the muzzle, and may either escape the 
shot altogether, or may be only “ creased,” and of 
course get off. 

The mode of setting *he “ gun-trap ” in South 
Africa is a superior plan ; and the creature that is so 
unfortunate as to draw the trigger rarely escapes, 
/ 20 


THE GUN-TRAP. 


30ff 

but is either killed upon the spot, or so badlj 
wounded as to prevent its getting away. 

Yon Bloom constructed his trap after the approved 
fashion, as follows : Near the camp he selected a spot 
where three saplings, or young trees, grew, stand- 
ing in a line, and about a yard between each two of 
them. Had he not found three trees so disposed, 
stakes firmly driven into the ground would have 
answered his purpose equally well. 

Thorn-bushes were now cut, and a kraal built in 
the usual manner — that is, with the tops of the 
bushes turned outwards. The size of the kraal was 
a matter of no consequence, and, of course, to save 
labor, a small one was constructed. 

One point, however, was observed in making the 
kraal. Its door or opening was placed so that two of 
the three saplings stood like posts, one on each side 
of it, and an animal going into the enclosure must 
needs pass between these two trees. 

Now for the part the gun had to play. 

The weapon was placed in a horizontal position 
against two of the saplings, — that is, the stock 
against the one outside the kraal, and the barrel 
against one of the door-posts, and there firmly lashed. 
In this position the muzzle was close to the edge of 
the entrance, and pointing directly to the sapling on 
the opposite side. It was at such a height as to have 
ranged with the heart of a hyena standing in the 
opening. 

The next move was to adjust the string. Already 
a piece of stick, several inches in length, had been 
6xed to the small of the stock, and, of course, be> 


THE GUN-TRAP. 


307 


kind the trigger. This was fastened transversely, but 
not so as to preclude all motion. A certain loose* 
ness in its adjustment gave it the freedom required 
to be worked as a lever — for that was its design. 

To each end of this little stick was fastened a 
string One of these strings was attached to the 
trigger ; the other, after being carried through the 
thimbles of the ramrod, traversed across the entrance 
of the kraal, and was knotted upon the opposite side 
to the sapling that stood there. This string followed 
the horizontal direction of the barrel, and was just 
“ taut,” so that any further strain upon it would act 
upon the little lever, and by that means pull the trig- 
ger, and then of course “bang” would go the roer. 

When this string was adjusted, and the gun loaded 
and cocked, the trap was set. 

Nothing remained to be done but bait it. This 
was not a difficult task. It consisted simply in plac- 
ing a piece of meat or carcass within the enclosure, 
and there leaving it to attract the prowling beasts to * 
the spot. 

When the gun had been set, Swartboy earned up 
the bait, — the offal of an antelope killed that day, - 
and flung it into the kraal ; and then the party wont 
quietly to their beds, without thinking more of the 
matter. 

They had not slept a wink, however, before they 
were startled by the loud “ crack ” of the roer, fol- 
lowed by a short stifled cry, that told them the gun- 
trap had done its work. 

A torch was procured, and the four hunters pro- 
seeded to tho spot. There they found the dead body 


SO 8 


THE GUN-TRAP. 


of a huge “ tiger-wolf ” lying doubled up ir. the ci* 
trance, and right under the muzzle of the gun. He 
had not gone a step after receiving the shot, — in 
fact, had hardly kicked before dying, — as the bullet, 
wad, and all, had gone quite through' his ribs and 
entered his heart, after making a large ugly hole in 
his side Of course he must have been within a few 
inches of the muzzle, when his breast, pressing 
against the string, caused the gun to go off’. 

Having again loaded the roer, the hunters returned 
to their beds. One might suppose they would have 
dragged the suicidal hyena away from the spot, 
lest his carcass should serve as a warning to his com- 
rades, and keep them away from the trap. But 
Swartboy knew better than that. Instead of being 
scared by the dead body of one of their kind, the 
hyenas only regard it as proper prey, and will devour 
it as they would the remains of a tender antelope ! 

Knowing this, Swartboy did not take the dead 
hyena away, but only drew it within the kraal, to 
serve as a further inducement for the others to 
attempt an entrance there. 

Before morning they were once more awakened by 
the “bang” of the great gun. This time they lay 
still ; but when day broke they visited their trap, and 
found that a second hyena had too rashly pressed 
his bosom against the fatal string. 

Night after night they continued their warfare 
against the hyenas, changing the trap-kraal to dif- 
ferent localities in the surrounding neighborhood. 

At length these creatures were nearly extermi 
uated, or, at all events, became so rare and shy that 



% 





































V 














* 
































































< 


































r) $ 























































■ 























1 














, • • * • • * 










1 , 










■ 











THE GUN-TRAP. 


309 


their presence in tne camp was no longer an annoy 
ance one way or the other. 

About this time, however, there appeared anothei 
set of visitors, whose presence was far mere to be 
dreaded, and whose destruction the hunters were 
more anxious to accomplish. That was a family of 
lions. 

The spoor of these had been often seen in the 
neighborhood, but it was some time before they began 
to frequent the camp. However, about the time the 
hyenas had been fairly got rid of, the lions took their 
place, and came every night, roaring about the camp 
in a most terrific manner. 

Dreadful as these sounds were, the people were not 
so much afraid of them as one might imagine. They 
well knew that the lions could not get at them in the 
tree. Had it been leopards they might have felt 
less secure, as the latter are true tree-climbers ; but 
they had seen no leopards in that country, and did 
not think of them. 

They were not altogether without fear of the lions, 
however. They were annoyed, moreover, that they 
could not with safety descend from the tree after 
nightfall, but were every night besieged from sunset 
till morning. Besides, although the cow and the quag- 
gas were shut in strong kraals, they dreaded each 
night that the lions would make a seizure of one or 
other of these animals ; and the loss of any one of 
them, but especially their valuable friend “Old Glraaf,” 
would have been a very serious misfortune. 

It was resolved, therefore, to try the gun-trap upon 
the lions, as it had succeeded so well with the hyenas. 

BB 


THE GUN-TRiP. 


31f 

There was no difference in the construction or ooi> 
trivance of the trap. The gun only had to be placed 
upon a higher level, so that its muzzle might be op- 
posite the lion’s heart, and the proper range was 
easily obtained. The bait, however, was not carcass, 
but an animal freshly killed ; and for this purpose an 
antelope was procured. 

The result was as desired. On the first night the 
old male lion “ breasted ” the fatal string, and bit the 
dust. Next night the lioness was destroyed in a sim 
ilar way, and shortly after a full-grown young male. 

The trap then lay idle for a while ; but about a 
week after a half-grown 11 cub ” was shot near the 
camp by Hendrik, — no doubt the last of that family, 
as no lions were seen for a long time after. 

A great enemy to night-plunderers was that sam« 
gun-trap. 


THE WEAVER-BIRDS 


an 


CHAPTER XLIII. 

THE WEAVER-BIRDS. 

Now that the beasts of prey had been destroyed; 
or driven from about the camp, there was no longer 
any danger in that quarter, and the children could be 
left by themselves. Totty of course always stayed 
with them, while the four hunters went forth upon 
the chase of the elephant, each mounted upon his 
quagga. 

They had done so many a time, and as no harm 
had happened to the children in their absence, such 
a Courts became habitual with them. Jan and Truey 
were cautioned not to stray far from the nwana, and 
always to climb to the tree should they perceive any 
animal that might be dangerous. Before the destruc- 
tion of the hyenas and lions, they had been used to 
remain altogether in the tree, while the hunters were 
absent. But this had been quite an imprisonment to 
them, and, now that the danger was not considered 
much, they were allowed to come down and play 
upon the grassy plain, or wander along the shore of 
the little lake. 

On one occasion when the hunters were abroad; 
Truey had strayed down to the edge of the water. 
She was alone, if we except the company of the ga 
selle, which followed at her heels wherever she went 


312 


THE WEAVER-BIRDS 


This pretty creature had grown to full size, and 
turned out a great beauty, with large round eyes, that 
had a lovely, melting expression, like the eyes of 
Truey herself. 

Well, as I have said, Truey was alone. Jan was 
busy near the bottom of the tree, working a new rod 
into his bird-cage, and Totty was out upon the plain 
herding “ old Graaf,” — so Truey and the pet spring- 
bok went strolling along by themselves. 

Now, Truey had not gone down to the water with- 
out an object. She had one. She had gone to give 
her pet a drink, and collect some blue lilies for a 
bouquet. All this she had done, and still continued 
to walk along the shore. 

On one side of the lake, and that the furthest from 
the nwana-tree, a low spit of land projected into the 
water. It had once been but a sand-bar, but grass 
had grown upon it, until a green turf wasTormed. 
There was not over a square perch of it altogether, 
but it was not square in shape. On the contrary, it 
was of oval form, and much narrower nearest the 
land, where it formed a neck, or isthmus, not more 
than three feet in width. It was, in short, a minia- 
ture peninsula, which by a very little work with the 
spade could have been converted into a miniature 
island, had that been desired. 

Now, there is nothing very remarkable about a little 
peninsula projecting into a lake. In nearly every 
lake suvh a thing may be seen. But about this one 
there was something remarkable. 

Upon its extreme end grew a tree of singular form 
and foliage. It was not a large tree, and its branches 


THE WEA\ ER-BIRDS. 


313 


drooped downwards until their tips almost toucued the 
water. The pendulous boughs, and long lanceolate 
silvery leaves, rendered it easy to tell what sort of tree 
it was. It was the weeping or Babylonian willow — 
so called because it was upon trees of this species 
that the captive Jews hung their harps when they 
“ sat and wept by the streams of Babel.” This 
beautiful tree casts its waving shadow over the 
streams of South Africa, as well as those of Assyria ; 
and often is the eye of the traveller gladdened by the 
sight of its silvery leaves, as he beholds them, 
sure indications of water, shining afar over the 
parched and thirsty desert. If a Christian, he fails 
not to remember that highly poetical passage of 
sacred writing, that speaks of the willow of Babylon. 

Now, the one which grew upon the little peninsula 
had all these points of interest for little Triiey — but 
it had others as well. Upon its branches that over- 
hung the water a very singular appearance presented 
itself. Upon these was suspended — one upon the 
end of each branch — a number of odd-shaped ob-» 
jects, that hung drooping down until their lower ends 
nearly rested upon the surface of the water. These 
objects, as stated, were of a peculiar shape. At the 
upper ends — where they were attached to the 
branches — they were globe-shaped, but the lower 
part consisted of a long cylinder of much smaller 
diameter, and at the bottom of this cylinder was the 
entrance. They bore some resemblance to salad* 
oil bottles inverted, with their necks considerably 
lengthened ; or they might be compared to the glaag 
retorts seen in the laboratory of the chemist. 


314 


THE WEAVER-BIRDS. 


They were each twelve or fifteen inches in length, 
and of a greenish color — nearly as green as the 
leaves of the tree itself. Were they its fruit ? 

No. The weeping willow bears no fruit of that 
size. They were not fruit. They were nests of birds i 

Yes , they were the nests of a colony of harmless 
finches of the genus Ploceus , — better known to yo . 
under the appellation of “ weaver-birds.” 

I am sure you have heard of weaver-birds be- 
fore this, and you know that thes§ creatures are so 
called on account of the skill which they exhibit in 
the construction of their nests. They do not build 
nests, as other birds, but actually weave them, in a 
most ingenious manner. 

You are not to suppose that there is but one spe- 
cies of weaver-bird — one kind alone that forms these 
curious nests. In Africa — which is the principal 
home of these birds — there are many different kinds, 
forming different genera, whose hard names I shall 
not trouble you with. Each of these different kinds 
builds a nest of peculiar shape, and each chooses a 
material different from the others. Some, as the 
Proceus icterocephalus, make their nests of a kidney- 
shape, with the entrance upon the sides, and the lat- 
ter not circular, but like an arched doorway. Others 
of the genus Plocepasser weave their nests in such a 
manner that the thick ends of the stalks stick out all 
around the outside, giving them the appearance of 
suspended hedgehogs ; while the birds of another 
genus, closely allied to the latter, construct theii 
nests of slender twigs, leaving the ends of these t« 
project in a similar manner. The “ so cial gros-beak 91 


TBTE WEAVER-BIRDS. 


315 


(Loma soda) fabricates a republic of nests in ono 
clump, and all under one roof. The entrances are in 
the under surface of this mass, which, occupying the 
whole top of a tree, has the appearance of a hay* 
stack, or a dense piece of thatch. 

All these weaver-birds, though of different genera, 
bear a considerable resemblance to each other in 
their habits. They are usually granivorous, though 
some are insectivorous; and one species, the “red- 
billed weaver-bird” ( Textor erythrorhynchus) , is a 
parasite of the wild buffaloes. 

Jt is a mistake to suppose that weaver-birds are 
only found in Africa and the Old World, as stated in 
the works of many naturalists. In tropical America 
birds of this character are found in many species of 
the genera Cassicus and Icterus , who weave pensile 
nests of a similar kind upon the trees of the Amazon 
and Orinoco. But the true weaver-birds, that is to 
say, those which are considered the type of the class, 
are those of the genus Ploceus ; and it was a species 
of this genus that had hung their pendulous habita- 
tions upon the weeping willow. They were of the 
species known as the “ pensile weaver-bird ” ( Plo- 
ceus pensilis) . 

There were full twenty of their nests in all, shaped 
as already described, and of green color ; for the 
tough “Bushman’s grass,” out of which they had 
been woven, had not yet lost its verdant hue, nor 
would it for a long time. Being of this color, they 
actually looked like something that grew upon the 
tree — like great pear-shaped fruits. No doubt from 
this source have been derived the talf* of ancient 


S16 


THE WEAVER-BIRDS. 


travellers, who represanted that ii Africa were tree# 
with fruits upon them, which, upon being broken 
open, disclosed to view either living birds or their 
eggs. 

Now, the sight of the weaver-birds and theil 
nests was nothing new to Triiey. It was some time 
since the colony had established itself upon the 
willow-tree, and she and they had grown well 
acquainted. She had often visited the birds, had 
collected seeds, and carried them down to the tree ; 
and there was not one of the whole colony that 
would not have perched upon her wrist or her pretty 
white shoulders, or hopped about over her fair locks, 
without fear. It was nothing unusual to her to see 
the pretty creatures playing about the branches, or 
entering the long vertical tunnels that led upward 
to their nests ; nothing unusual for Triiey to listen 
for hours to their sweet twittering, or watch their 
love-gambols around the borders of the vley. 

She was not thinking of them at the moment, but 
of something else, — perhaps of the blue water-lilies, 
perhaps of the springbok, but certainly not of them, 
as she tripped gayly along the edge of the lake. 

Her attention, however, was suddenly attracted to 
the birds. 

All at once, and without any apparent cause, they 
commenced screaming and fluttering around the tree, 
their cries and gestures betokening a ligh state of 
txcitement or alarm. 


THE SPITTING-SNAKE. 


an 


CHAPTER XLIV. 

THE SPITTING-SNAKE. 

“ What can be the matter with my pretty birJs ? ” 
**ked Triiey of herself. “ Something wrong surely ! 
I see no hawk. Perhaps they are fighting among 
themselves. I shall go round and see. I shall soon 
pacify them.” 

And, so saying, she mended her pace ; and, passing 
round the end of the lake, walked out upon the 
peninsula until she stood under the willow. 

There was no underwood. The tree stood alone 
upon the very end of the spit of land, and Triiey 
went close in to its trunk. Here she stopped and 
looked up among the branches, to ascertain what 
was causing so much excitement among the 
birds. 

As she approached, several of the little creatures 
had flown towards her, and alighted upon her arms 
and shoulders ; but not as was their wont when 
desiring to be fed. They appeared to be in a state 
of alarm, and had come to her for protection. 

Some enemy certainly must be near, thought 
Triiey, though she could see none. 

She looked around and above. There were no 
hawks in the air, nor on the neighboring trees — no 
birds of prey of any kind Had there been one in 


818 


THE SPITTING-SNAKE. 


the willow, she could easily have seen it, as tl\« 
foliage was light and thin ; besides, a hawk would 
not have remained in the tree with her standing so 
near. What, then, caused the trouble among the 
birds ? What was still causing it, for they were 
as noisy and terrified as ever ? Ha ! At last the 
en'uny appears ; at last Triiey’s eyes have fallen 
upon the monster who has disturbed the peaceful 
colony of weavers, and roused them to such a pitch 
of excitement. 

Slowly gliding along a horizontal branch, grasp 
ing the limb in its many spiral folds, appeared the 
body of a large serpent. Its scales glittered as it 
moved, and it was the shining of these that had 
caught Triiey's eyes, and directed them upon the 
hideous reptile. 

When she first saw it, it was gliding spirally 
along one of the horizontal branches of the willow, 
and coming, as it were, from the nests of the birds. 
Her eyes, however, had scarce rested upon it, before 
its long slippery body passed from the branch, and 
the next moment it was crawling head-foremost down 
the main trunk of the tree. 

Triiey had scarce time to start back, before its 
head was opposite the spot where she had stood. 
No doubt, had she kept her place, she would have 
been bitten by the serpent at once ; for the reptile, 
on reaching that point, detached its head from the 
tree, spread its jaws wide open, projected its forked 
tongue, and hissed horribly. It was evidently 
enraged, partly because it had failed in its plunder- 
ing intentions, not having been able to reach the 


THE SPITTING-SNAKE. 


319 


nests of the birds, and partly that the latter had 
repeatedly struck it with their beaks — no doubt 
causing it considerable pain. It was further pro- 
voked by the arrival of Triiey, in whom it recognized 
the rescuer of its intended victims. 

Whatever were its thoughts at that moment, it 
was evidently in a rage, as the motion of its head 
and the flashing of its eyes testified ; and it would 
have sprung upon any creature that had unfortu- 
nately come in its way. 

Triiey, however, had no intention , of getting in 
its way, if she could avoid it. It might be a harm- 
less serpent, for all she knew ; but a snake nearly 
six feet in length, whether it be harmless or venom- 
ous, is a terrible object to be near ; and Triiey had 
instinctively glided to one side, and stood off from 
it as far as the water would allow her. 

She would have run back over the narrow isthmus ; 
but something told her that the snake was about to 
take that direction, and might overtake her ; and 
this thought induced her to pass to one side of the 
peninsula, in hopes the reptile would follow the path 
that led out to the mainland. 

Having got close to the water’s edge, she stood 
gazing upon the hideous form, and trembled as she 
gazed. 

Had Triiey known the character of that reptile, 
6he would have trembled all the more. Sbe saw 
before her one ;f the most venomous of serpents, the 
black naja, or “ spitting-snake,” the cobra of Africa ; 
far more dangerous than its congener the cobra d* 


520 


THE SPITTING-SNAKE. 


capello of India, because far more active in its 
movements, and equally fatal in its bite. 

Triiey knew not this. She only knew that there 
was a great ugly snake, nearly twice her own length, 
with a large open mouth and glistening tongue 
apparently ready to eat her up. That was fearful 
enough for her, poor thing ! and she gazed and trem 
bled, and trembled and gazed again. 

Angry as the cobra appeared, it did not turn aside 
to attack her. Neither did it remain by the tree. 
After uttering^ its long loud hiss, it descended to the 
ground, and glided rapidly off. 

It made directly for the isthmus, as if intending 
to pass it, and retreat to some bushes that grew at a 
distance off on the mainland. 

Triiey was in hopes that such was its design, and 
was just beginning to feel safe again, when, all at 
once, the snake coiled itself upon the narrow neck 
of land, as if it intended to stay there. 

It had executed this manoeuvre so suddenly, and 
so apparently without premeditation, that Triiey 
looked to discover the cause. The moment before, 
it was gliding along in rapid retreat, its glistening 
form stretched to its full length along the earth. 
The next instant it had assumed the appearance of 
a coiled cable, over the edge of which projected its 
fierce head, with the scaly skin of its neck broadly 
extended, into that hood-like form which characterizes 
the cobra. 

Triiey, we have said, looked for the cause of this 
sudden change in the tactics of the reptile. She 
learnt it at the first glance. 


THE SPITTING-SNARE. 


321 


Tnere stretched a piece of smooth sloping ground 
from the edge of the lake back into the plain. By 
this the little peninsula was approached. As she 
glanced outward, she saw the springbok advancing 
down this slope. It was* the approach of the 
antelope that had interrupted the retreat of the 
serpent. 

Triiey, on first discovering the snake, had uttered 
a cry of alarm. This cry had summoned her pet, 
that had lingered behind browsing upon the grass, 
and it was now bounding forward, with its white 
tail erect, and its large brown eyes glistening with 
an expression of inquiry. 

It saw its mistress out upon the peninsula. Had 
she called it? Why had she uttered that strange 
cry ? They were not sounds of joyful import it had 
heard. Was anything amiss ? Yonder she stood. 

It would gallop to her, and see what was wanted ; , 
and, with such thoughts passing through its brain, 
the bright little creature bounded down the bank 
towards the edge of the lake. 

Triiey trembled for her pet. Another spring, and 

it would be upon the lurking serpent — another 

“ Ha ! it is safe ! ” 

These words escaped from the lips of the young 
girl, as she saw the springbok rise high into the air, 
and leap far and clear over the coiled reptile. 
The antelope had observed the snake in time, and 
saved itself by one of those tremendous bounds, 
such as only a springbok can make. The fond 
creatuie, having passed the danger, now ran on to 
21 cc 


322 


THE SPITTING-SNAKE. 


its mistress, and stood with its big shining eyes bent 
upon her inquiringly. 

But the cry that Triiey had uttered had summoned 
another individual. To her horror, she now saw 
little Jan running down the slope, and coming 
directly upon the path where the cobra lay coiled. 


THH SERPENT-EATER. 


323 


CHAPTER XLV. 

THE SERPENT-EATER. 

Jan’s dangei was imminent. He was rushing im- 
petuously forward upon the coiled serpent. He 
knew not that it was before him. No warning would 
reach him in time to stay his haste. In another 
moment he would be on the narrow path, and then 
no power could save him from the deadly bite. It 
would be impossible for him to leap aside or over the 
reptile, as the antelope had done ; for even then Triiey 
had noticed that the cobra had darted its long neck 
several feet upwards. It would be certain to reach 
little Jan, perhaps coil itself around him. Jan would 
be lost ! 

For some moments Triiey was speechless. Terror 
had robbed her of the power of speech. She could 
only scream, and fling her arms wildly about. 

But these demonstrations, instead of warning Jan 
of the danger, only rendered it the more certain. 
He connected the cries which Triiey now uttered 
with that which had first summoned him. She was 
in some trouble, he knew not what ; but, as she con- 
tinued to scream, he believed that something had 
attacked her. A snake he thought it might be ; but ; 
whatever it was, his first impulse was to hurry 
up to her rescue. He could do no good until close 


324 


THE SERPENT-EATER. 


to her ; and, therefore, he did not think of halting 
until he should reach the spot where she stood. 

Her screams, therefore, and the wild gestures that 
accompanied them, only caused him to run the 
faster ; and as his eyes were bent anxiously on 
Triiey, there was not the slightest hope that he 
would perceive the serpent until he had either trod* 
dsn upon it, or felt its fatal bite. 

Triiey uttered one last cry of warning, pronouncing 
at the same time the words — 

“ 0, brother ! back ! The snake ! the snake ! ” 

The words were uttered in vain. Jan heard them, 
but did not comprehend their meaning. He heard 
the word “ snake.” He was expecting as much. It 
had attacked Triiey ; and although he did not see 
it, it was no doubt wound about her body. Ho 
hurried on. 

Already he was within six paces of the dreaU 
reptile, that had erected its long spread neck to 
receive him. Another moment, and its envenomeo 
fangs would pierce deep into his flesh. 

With a despairing scream Triiey rushed forward. 
She hoped to attract the monster upon herself, Shi 
would risk her own life to save that of her bz. other. 

She had got within six feet of the threatening 
reptile. Jan was about the same distance from i 
on the opposite side. They were eq* nly in peril, 
and one or the other, perhaps botl , would havi 
fallen a sacrifice to the deadly cobJd : but at thai 
moment their savior was nigh. A dark shadow 
passed under their eyes, in their ears was a rushing 
sound like, the 11 whish ” of a falling body ; and al 


THJJ SERPENT-EATER. 


325 


fche same instant a large biid darted down between 
them. 

It did not stay to alight. For a moment its strong 
broad wings agitated the air in their faces ; but the 
next moment the bird made a sudden effort, and rose 
vertically upwards. 

Triiey’s eyes fell upon the ground. The cobra 
was no longer there. 

With an exclamation of joy she sprang forward, 
and, throwing her arms around Jan, cried out — 

“ We are saved, brother ! we are saved ! ” 

Jan was somewhat bewildered. As yet he had 
seen no snake. He had seen the bird dart down 
between them ; but so adroitly had it seized the 
cobra and carried it off, that Jan, looking only at 
Triiey, had not perceived the serpent in its beak. 
He was bewildered and terrified, for he still fancied 
that Triiey was in danger. 

When he heard her exclaim, “ We are saved 1 ” 
ne was bewildered all the more. 

11 But the snake ! ” he cried out. “ Where is the 
snake ? ” 

As he put these questions, he kept examining 
Triiey from head to foot, as if expecting to see a 
reptile twined around some part of her body. 

lt The snake, Jan! Did you not see it? It was 
just there, at our feet ; but now, see ! yonder it is. 
The secretary has got it. See ! They are fighting ! 
Good bird ! I hope it will punish the villain for 
trying to rob my pretty weavers. That 's it, good 
Dird ! Give it to him ! See, J an ! What a fight ! ” 

“0, ah ! ” said Jan, now comprehending the 


S26 


THE SERPENT-EATER 


situation. “ 0, ah ! Sure enough, yonder is a snake, 
and a wopper, too. Ne’er fear, Triiey ! Trust my 
secretary. He ’ll give the rascal a taste of his claws. 
There ’s a lick well put in ! Another touch like that, 
and there won’t be much life left in the scaly villain 
There again — wop ! ” 

With these and similar exclamations, the two 
children stood watching the fierce conflict that raged 
between the bird and the reptile. 

Now, this bird was a very peculiar one ; so much 
so, that in all the world there is no other of the same 
kind. In form it resembled a crane, having very 
long legs, and being about the height and size of a 
^rane. Its head and beak, however, were more like 
ihose of an eagle or vulture. It had well-developed 
wings, armed with spurs ; and a very long tail, with 
the two middle feathers longer than the rest Its 
general color was bluish-gray, with a white throat 
and breast, and a reddish tinge upon the wing-feath- 
ers. But, perhaps, the most remarkable thing about 
the bird was its “ crest.” This consisted of a num- 
ber of long, blackish plumes growing out of its 
occiput, and extending down the back of its neck 
nearly to the shoulders. These gave the bird a very 
peculiar appearance ; and the fancied resemblance to 
a secretary of the olden time with his long quill 
behind his ear, before steel pens came into fashion, 
is the reason why the bird has received the very in- 
appropriate name of the “ Secretary-bird.” 

It is more properly named the “ serpent-eater,” 
and naturalists have given it the title Gypogeranus- 
or 1 crane- vulture.” It is sometimes also called 


THE SERPENT-EATER. 


321 


the messenger,” from the staid, solemn mar.ier of 
Hs walk, as it*stalks over the plain. 

Of all its names that of “ serpent-eater ” is the 
best adapted to the character of the bird. It is true 
there are other birds that kill and eat serpents, as 
the 11 guaco ” bird of South America, and many 
hawks and kites ; but the secretary is the only winged 
creature that makes reptiles of this class exclusively 
its prey, and carries on a constant war against them. 
It is not strictly correct to say that it feeds exclu- 
sively upon snakes. It will also eat lizards, tor- 
toises, and even locusts ; but snakes are certainly 
its favorite food, and to obtain these it risks its life 
in many a deadly encounter with those of a very 
large kind. 

The serpent-eater is an African bird, and is not 
peculiar to South Africa alone, as it is found in the 
Gambia country. It is also a native of the Philippine 
Isles. There is some doubt whether the species of 
the Philippine Isles is identical with that of Africa. 
A difference is ijoted in the plumage, though very 
slight. The disposition of the crest-plumes differs in 
the two, and the tail-feathers are differently arranged. 
In the African species the two middle ones are the 
longest, while in the serpent-eater of the Philippines 
it is tne two outside feathers that project, giving the 
bird the appearance of having a “ fork ” or “ swal- 
low ” tail. Some points of distinction have also 
been observed between the South African bird and 
that of the Gambia. 

The serpent-eater is, however, a very unique bird ; 
and naturalists, failing tc class it with either hawks, 


828 


THE SERPEMT-EATEB , 


eagles, vultures, gallinse, or cranes, have elevateJ 
it, so as to form a distinct tribe, family, genus, and 
species, of itself. 

In South Africa it frequents the great plains and 
dry karoos, stalking about in search of its prey. It 
is not gregarious, but lives solitary or in pairs, mak- 
ing its nest in trees, — usually those of a thick, 
thorny species, which renders the nest most dif- 
ficult of approach. The whole edifice is about three 
feet in diameter, and resembles the nests of the tree- 
building eagles. It is usually lined with feathers 
and down, and two or three eggs are the number 
deposited for a single hatching. 

The serpent-eater is an excellent runner, and 
spends more time on foot than on the wing. It is a 
shy, wary bird, yet, notwithstanding, it is most 
easily domesticated ; and it is not uncommon to see 
them about the houses of the Cape farmers, where 
they are kept as pets, on account of their usefulness 
in destroying snakes, lizards, and other vermin. 
They have been long ago introduced into the French 
West India Islands, and naturalized there, in order 
that they should make war upon the dangerous 
“yellow serpent” ( Trigonocephalus lanceolatus ) , the 
plague of the plantations in those parts. 

Now, the bird which had so opportunely appeared 
between Jan and Triiey, and had no doubt saved one 
or the other, or both, from the deadly bite of the 
spuugh-slang , was a serpent-eater, — one that had 
been tamed, and that made its home among the 
branches of the great nwana-tree. The hunters had 
found it upon the plain, wounded by some animal,— 


THE SERPENT-EATER. 


329 


perhaps a very large snake, — and had brought it 
home as a curiosity. In time it quite recovered from 
its wounds ; but the kindness it had received during 
the period when it was an invalid ’was not thrown 
away upon it. When it recovered the use of its 
wings, it refused to leave the society of its protect- 
ors, but remained habitually in the camp, although 
it made frequent excursions into the surrounding 
plains, in search of its favorite food. It always, 
however, returned at night, and roosted among the 
branches of the great nwana-tree. Of course it was 
Jan’s pet, and Jan was very good to it ; but it now 
repaid all his kindness in saving him from the fangs 
of the deadly cobra. 

The children, having recovered from their alarm, 
stood watching the singular conflict between serpent 
and serpent-eater. 

On first seizing the reptile, the bird had caught it 
by the neck in its beak. It might not have accom- 
plished this so readily, had not the attention of the 
snake been occupied by the children, thus throwing 
it off’ its guard. 

Having succeeded in seizing the reptile, the bird 
rose nearly in a vertical direction to a height of many 
yards, and then, opening his beak, permitted the 
serpent to fall to the ground. His object was to 
stun the latter by a fall ; and, the more effectually 
to do this, he would have carried the cobra still 
higher, had not the latter prevented it by attempting 
to coil itself around his wings. 

Upon letting fall his prey, the serpent-eater did 
aot remain in ihe air. On the contrary, he darted 


330 


THE SERPENT-EATER. 


after the falling reptile, and the moment the lattei 
touched the ground, and before it could put itself in 
an attitude of defence, the bird “ pounced ” upon it 
with spread foot, striking it a violent blow near the 
neck. The snake was still but slightly damaged, 
and, throwing itself into a coil, stood upon its de- 
fence. Its mouth was opened to its widest extent, 
its tongue protruded, its fangs were erect, and ita 
eyes flashing with rage and poison. A terrible an- 
tagonist it appeared, and, for a moment, the secre- 
tary seemed to think so, as he stood on the ground 
confronting it. 

But the bird soon began to advance upon it for a 
renewal of the attack* though this advance was made 
in a cautious manner. With the pinions of one of 
his strong wings spread broadly out for a shield, he 
approached the reptile sideways, and, when near 
enough, suddenly wheeled, turning upon his leg as 
on a pivot, and struck sharply out with his other 
wing. The blow was delivered with good effect. 
It reached the head of the snake, and seemed to stun 
it. Its neck drooped, and the coils became loosened. 
Before it could recover itself it was once more in 
the beak of the serpent-eater, and trailing through 
the air. 

This time the bird rose to a much greater height 
than before, as he was not hampered by the writhing 
of the serpent, and, as before, suffered the reptile to 
fall, and then darted suddenly after. 

When the snake came to the ground a second 
time, it lay for a moment stretched at full length, as 
if stunned, or dead. It was not dead, however, and 


THE SERPENT-EATER. 


331 


would once more have coiled itself ; but, before it 
could do so, the bird had repeatedly “ pounced 
upon its neck with his spread and horny feet ; and. 
at length, watching his opportunity when the head 
of the serpent lay flat, he struck a blow with his 
sharp beak so violent that it split the skull of the 
reptile in 'twain ! Life was now extinct, and the 
hideous form, extended to its full length, lay lithe 
and motionless upon the grass. 

Jan and Triiey clapped their hands, and uttered 
exclamations of joy. 

The serpent-eater took no heed of their demonstra- 
tions, but, approaching the dead cobra, bent over it. 
and coolly set about making his dinner. 


332 


TOTTY AND THE CHACMAS 


CHAPTER XL VI. 

TOTTY AND THE CHACMAS. 

Von Bloom and his * family had now been months 
without biead. They were not without a substitute, 
however, as various roots and nuts supplied them 
with a change of food. Of the latter, they had the 
ground or pig nut ( Arachis hypogea), which grows in 
all parts of Southern Africa, and which forms a staple 
food of the native inhabitants. For vegetables they 
had the bulbs of many species of Ixias and Mesembry • 
anthemums; among others the “ Hottentot fig ” (Me& 
embryanthemum edule). They had the “ Caffir bread } 
— the inside pith of the stems of a species of Zamia 
and the “ Caffir chestnut/’ the fruit of the Brabeium 
stellatum ; and last, not least, the enormous roots of 
the “ elephant’s foot” ( Testudinaria elephantipes) . 
They had wild onions and garlic, too ; and in the 
white flower-tops of a beautiful floating plant ( Apono - 
geton distachys) they found a substitute for asparagus. 

All these roots and fruits were to be obtained in 
the neighborhood, and no man knew better how to 
find them, and “crow” them up when found, than 
did Swartboy, the Bushman. Well might he, for in 
Swartboy’s early days he had often been compelled 
to subsist for weeks, and even months, on roots 
alone 
















































« 

, 

' ■ 






• • 














- 






• * 






















• . 















• N 






' 




























*. 











































































: 

» 



















* 

f 
















. 




































































.1 































































TOTTY AND THE CHACMAS. 


335 


But, although they could procure a constant sup 
ply of these natural productions, they considered 
them but a poor substitute for bread ; and all of them 
longed to eat once more what is usually termed the 
t( staff of life” — though in South Africa, where so 
many people live exclusively upon the flesh of ani- 
mals, bread is hardly entitled to that appellation. 

Bread they were likely to have, and soon. When 
treking from the old kraal, they had brought with 
them a small bag of maize. It was the last of their 
previous year’s stock ; and there was not in all over 
a bushel of it. But that was enough for seed, and 
would produce many bushels if properly planted and 
carefully tended. 

This had been done shortly after their arrival at 
their present home. A fertile spot of ground had 
been selected, only a few hundred yards from the 
nwana-tree. It had been turned up with the spade, 
for want of a plough, and the seeds planted at proper 
distances. 

Many an hour had been given to the weeding and 
hoeing of it ; and around every plant a little hill of 
Soft mould had been raised, to nourish the roots and 
protect them from the heat of the sun. The plants 
were even watered, now and then. 

Partly on account of this attention, and partly 
from the richness of the virgin soil, a splendid growth 
was the result ; and the stalks stood full twelve feet 
high, with ears nearly a foot long. They had almost 
ripened, and the field-cornet intended in about a week 
or ten days to gather in the crop. 

Both he and all his people were anticipating pleas* 

DD 


334 


TOTTY AND THE CHACMAS. 


ant feasts of maize-bread, and “ hominy/ y with 
“mash and milk,” and various other dishes, that, 
with Totty’s skill, could be manufactured out of the 
Indian corn. 

About this time an incident occurred that nearly 
deprived them, not only of their whole plot of maize* 
plants, but also of their valuable housekeeper, Totty. 
It was as follows : 

Totty was on the platform in the great nwana-tree, 
which commanded a view of the corn-patch, and also 
of the plain beyond, as far as the bottom of the cliffs. 
She was busied about “ house ” affairs, when her at- 
tention was called off by some singular noises that 
came from that direction. She parted the branches 
and looked through. A singular scene was before 
her eyes — a spectacle of no common kind. 

A body of odd-looking animals, to the number of 
two hundred or more, was coming from the direction 
of the cliffs. They were creatures of ungainly forms, 
in make and size not unlike large, ill-shaped dogs, 
and of a greenish-brown color. Their faces and ears 
only were black, and these were naked, while their 
bodies were covered with harsh, coarse hair. They 
had long tails, which some of them carried high in 
the air, and flourished about in a very eccentric 
manner. 

T^tty was by no means alarmed. She knew what 
sort of animals they were ; she knew they were 
baboons. They were of the species known as the 
“pig-faced” baboon, or “chacma” ( Cynocephalus 
porcarius), which is found in nearly every part of 
South Africa where there are high cliffs with caves 


TOTTY AND THE CHACMAS. 


33fr 


and crevices, — the favorite dwelling-places of the 
baboon. 

Of all the monkey tribe, the baboons, or dog* 
headed monkeys (cynocephali ) , are the most disgust- 
ing in form and features. Who does not feel dis- 
gust when regarding the hideous mandrill, the drill, 
the hamadryas, or even the chacma ? And all these 
are baboons. 

The baboons are peculiar to Africa, and there are 
six well-known species of them : the common baboon 
of North Africa, the '** papion ” of the south and 
western coast, the “ hamadryas,” or “tartarin,” of 
Abyssinia, the “ mandrill ” and “ drill ’ ’ of Guinea, 
and the “ chacma ” of the Cape colony. 

The habits of these animals are as disgusting as 
their appearance. They may be tamed and made 
“ pets ” of ; but dangerous pets they are, as they 
will, upon the slightest provocation, bite the hand 
that feeds them. 

Their great strength of body and jaw, and their 
long canine teeth, give them a dangerous power, 
which they often make use of. No dog is a match 
for one, and the hyena and leopard often come off 
second-best in an encounter with a baboon. 

They are not carnivorous, however, and only tear 
their enemy to pieces, without eating it. Their food 
consists of fruits and bulbous roots, which they well 
understand to dig out of the ground with the sharp 
nails of their hands. 

Although they will not attack man if left alone, 
they become dangerous assailants when hunted and 
brought to bay. 


336 


TOTTY AND THE CHACMAS. 


Many odd stories are told of the chacma baboon 
among the settlers of Southern Africa ; such as their 
robbing the traveller of his food, and then going off 
to some distance and mocking him while they devour 
it. The natives also say that they sometimes use a 
stick in walking, “ crowing ” for roots, and in self 
defence. Also, when a young one has succeeded in 
finding a choice root, and is observed by an older 
and stronger one, that the latter takes it away ; but, 
should the young one have already swallowed it, 
then the bully picks him up, turns him head down- 
ward, and shakes him until he is forced to “ dis- 
gorge ” ! Many such tales are current in the country 
of the boors, and they are not all without founda- 
tion, for these animals most certainly possess the 
power of reflection in a high degree. 

Totty from her perch saw enough to convince her 
of this, had she been herself inclined to philosophize. 
But she was not. She was only a little curious 
about the manoeuvres of the animals, and she called 
Truey and little Jan up into the tree, in order that 
they might share the spectacle with her. All the 
others were off hunting. 

Jan was delighted, and ran up the ladder at once 
So did Truey, and all three stood watching the odd 
movements of the four-handed creatures. 

They perceived that the troop was actually march- 
ing in order ; not in line , but with some understood 
arrangement. There were scouts upon the wings, 
and leaders in front. These were baboons of greater 
age and size than the others. There were calls and 
signals, and the change of accent and tone would 


TOTTY AND THE CHACMAS. 


337 


have convinced any one that a regular conveisation 
was going on. The females and younger ones 
inarched in the middle, for better security. The 
mothers carried their infants upon their backs, or 
over their shoulders. Now a mother would stop to 
suckle her little offspring, — dressing its hair at the 
same time, — and then gallop forward to make up 
for the loss. Now one would be seen beating her 
child, that had in some way given offence. Now 
two young females would quarrel, from jealousy or 
some other cause ; and then a terrible chattering 
would ensue, to be silenced by the loud threatening 
bark of one of the chiefs. 

Thus proceeded they across the plain, chattering, 
*nd screaming, and barking, as only monkeys can. 

What wei£ they after ? 

That question was answered very soon. Triiey, 
and Jan, and Totty, saw, to their dismay, that the 
baboons were not out upon an idle errand. They 
were after the maize-plants ! 

In a few minutes most of the troop had entered 
the corn-field, and were hidden from view by the tall 
stems and broad leaves of the plants. A. few only 
could be seen, — large old fellows, that stationed 
themselves outside as sentinels, and were keeping 
up a constant interchange of signals. The main 
body was already stripping the plants of their pre- 
cious fruit. 

But a singular appearance presented itself beyond 
the corn-field, where a line of baboons, stationed at 
equal distance from one another, extended away to 
the very bottom of the cliff. These had been left by 
22 


338 


TOTTY A*D THE CHACMAS. 


a regular manoeuvre — a deployment — as the troop 
traversed the plain in coming to the field. For what 
purpose ? 

That was soon apparent. In less than two minutes 
after the crowd disappeared under the shelter of the 
maize-plants, the long heads in their husks were 
seen showering out towards the line, as if flung by 
the hand of man ! Those placed at the near end of 
the line immediately took them up, pitched them to 
the next, and these to the next, and so on, until, in 
a very short while from the time a head was plucked 
from the stalk, it was delivered to the storehouse of 
the baboons, far off among the cliffs ! 

Had this work gone on much longer, the field- 
cornet would have had but a poor gathering in har- 
vest-time. The baboons thought the corn ripe 
enough, and would soon have made a crop of it, but 
at this moment their operations were interrupted. 

Totty knew but little of the danger she underwent, 
when she ran forth with nothing but that long broom- 
handle to drive off a troop of chacmas. She only 
thought of the loss her kind master was sustaining, 
and down the ladder she hurried, and ran straight 
out to the corn-field. 

Several sentinels met her by its edge, grinned, 
chattered, screamed, barked, and showed their long 
canine teeth ; but they only received a blow over 
their ugly snouts from the broom-handle. Their 
jries summoned the others, and in a few moments 
the poor Hottentot was standing in the midst of an 
angry circle of chacmas, that were only prevented 
























* 









































TOTTY A ND THE CHACMAS 


339 


fi om springing in upon her by the expert manner in 
which she continued to ply the broom-stick. 

But this slight weapon would not have served 
much longer, and Totty's fate — that of being torn 
to pieces — would soon have been sealed, had not 
four horsemen, or rather “ quagga-men,” at that 
moment galloped up to her rescue. 

These were the hunters returning from the chase ; 
and a volley from their guns at once scattered the 
ugly chacmas, and sent them howling back to their 
caves. 

After that, the field-comet looked well to his maize 
until it was ready for gathering, when it was all 
brought home, and deposited in safety out of the 
reach of either birds, reptiles, quadrupeds, or quouL 
rumana. 


34.0 THE WILD HOUNDS AND THE HARTE3EEST. 


CHAPTER XL VII. 

THE WILD HOUNDS AND THE HARTEBEEST 

Since the taming of the quaggas, the hunting had 
been attended with tolerable success. Not a week 
passed without adding a pair of tusks — sometimes 
two or three pairs — to the collection, which now 
began to assume the form of a little pyramid of ivory 
standing near the bottom of the nwana. 

Von Bloom, however, was not quite satisfied with 
his progress. He thought they might do far better 
if they only had a few dogs. 

Though the quaggas were of great service to 
them, and with these they were often able to over- 
take the elephant, yet they as often lost their great 
game, and it is more easy to do so than most persons 
imagine. 

But, with dogs to join in the hunt, the result 
would be quite different. . It is true these animals 
cannot pull down an elephant, nor do him the slight- 
est injury ; but they can follow him whithersoever 
he may go, and by their barking bring him to a 
stand. 

Another valuable service which the dogs per- 
form is in drawing the attention of the elephant 
away from the hunters. The huge quadruped when 
enraged is, as we have already seen, exceedingly 


THE WILD H0UND3 AND THE HARTEBEEST. 341 


dangerous. On such occasions he will charge upon 
the noisy dogs, mistaking them for his real assail- 
ants. This, of course, gives the hunter a good op- 
portunity of delivering his fire, and avoiding the 
deadly encounter of the elephant. 

Now, in several elephant-hunts which they had 
lately made, our hunters had run some very narrow 
risks. Their quaggas were neither so manageable 
nor so quick in their movements as horses would 
have been, and this rendered the hazard still greater. 
Some of them might one day fall a victim. So feared 
Von Bloom ; and he would gladly have given for a 
number of dogs an elephant’s tusk apiece, even 
though they were the most worthless of curs. In- 
deed, their quality is but of slight importance. Any 
dogs that can trace the elephant and pester him with 
their barking would do. 

Von Bloom even thought of taming some hyenas, 
and training them to the hunt. This idea was by no 
means quixotic. The hyena is often used for such 
a purpose, and performs even better than many kinds 
of dogs. 

One day Von Bloom was pondering over this sub- 
ject. He was seated on a little platform that had 
been constructed very high up, — near the top of the 
nwana-tree, — from which a view could be had of the 
whole country around. It was a favorite resort of 
the field-cornet — his smoking-room, in fact — where 
he went every evening to enjoy a quiet pull out of 
his great meerschaum. His face was turned upon 
the plain that stretched from the border of the bosnt 
as far as the eye could reach. 


342 THE WILD HOUNDS AND THE HARTEBEEST. 

While quietly puffing away, his attention v as at 
fcracted by some animals standing at a distance off 
upon the plain. The brilliant color of their bodi3S 
had caught his eye. 

They were of a lively sienna-color over the back 
and sides, and white underneath, with a list of black 
upon the outside of the legs, and some black stripes 
upon the face, as regularly defined as if laid on by 
ohe brush of a painter. They had horns of very ir- 
regular shape, roughly knotted — each curved into 
something of the shape of a reaping-hook, and rising 
directly from the top of one of the straightest and 
longest heads ever carried by an animal These ani- 
mals were far from being gracefully formed. They 
had drooping hind-quarters, like the giraffe, though 
in a much less degree ; shoulders greatly elevated, 
and long narrow heads. For the rest, their forms 
were bony and angular. Each stood five feet high 
from the fore-hoof to the shoulder, and full nine f^t 
in length. 

They were antelopes, of course — that species 
known among Cape colonists as the “ hartebeest” 
(Acronotus caama). There were in all about fifty of 
them in the herd. 

When first observed by Von Bloom, they were 
quietly browsing upon the plain. The next moment, 
however, they were seen to run to and fro, as if sud- 
denly alarmed by the approach of an enemy. 

And an enemy there certainly was ; for, in a mo- 
ment more, the herd had taken to flight, and Von 
Bloom now saw that they were followed by a pack of 
hounds I I say a “pack of hounds, ” for the creatures 


THE WILD HOUNDS AND THE HARTEBEEST. 34 & 


In the distance exactly resembled hounds more than 
anything in the world. Nay, more than resembled, 
for it actually was a pack of hounds — of wild hounds ! 

Of course Yon Bloom knew what they were. He 
knew they were the “ wilde-honden,” very absurdly 
named by sapient naturalists “ Hyena venatica ,” or 
“ hunting hyena, ” and by others, with equal absurd- 
ity, the “hunting dog.” I pronounce these names 
“ absurd,” first, because the animal in question bears 
no more resemblance to a hyena than it does to a 
hedgehog ; and, secondly, because “hunting dog” 
is a very ridiculous appellation, since any dog may 
merit a similar title. 

Now, I would ask, why could these naturalists not 
let the nomenclature of the boors alone ? If a better 
name than “ wilde-honden ” (wild hounds) can be 
given to these animals, I should like to hear it. 
Why, it is the very perfection of a name, and ex- 
actly expresses the character of the animal to which 
they apply it — that character, which, coming under 
their every-day observation, suggested the name. 

It is quite a libel to call this beautiful creature a 
hyena. He has neither the ugly form, the harsh 
pelage, the dull color, nor the filthy habits, of one. 
Call him a “wolf,” or “wild dog,” if you please, 
but he is at the same time the handsomest wolf or 
wild dog in creation. But we shall name him, as the 
boors have done, a “ wild hound.” That is his true 
title, let naturalists class him as they may. 

His size, shape, his smooth, clean coat, as well as 
his color, approximate him more to the hound than 
to any other animal. In the last — which is a ground 


841 THE WILD HOUNDS AND 1HE HARTEBEEST. 

of “tan” blotched and mottled with large spots ol 
black and gray — he bears a striking resemblance to 
the common hound ; and the superior size of his 
cars would seem to assimilate him still more to this 
animal. The ears, however, as in all the wild species 
of Cams, are, of course, not hanging, but erect. 

His habits, however, crown the resemblance. In 
lis natural state the wild hound never prowls alone, 
>ut boldly runs down his game, following it in large 
>rganized packs, just as hounds do ; and in his hunt- 
ing he exhibits as much skill as if he had Tom Moody 
riding at his heels, to guide with whip and horn. 

It was the field-cornet’s good fortune to witness 
q exhibition of this skill. 

The hounds had come unexpectedly upon the 
nArtebeest herd ; and almost at the first dash one 
o* the antelopes became separated from the rest, and 
run in an opposite direction. This was just what the 
tunning dogs wanted ; and the whole pack, instead 
of following the herd, turned after the single one 
nuu ran “ tail on end.” 

Bow, this hartebeest, although an ill-shaped ante- 
lop i, is one of the very swiftest of the tribe ; and 
the wild hound does not capture it without a severe 
ch«,ie. In fact, he could not capture it at all , if 
spe d were the only point between the two animals 
But tt is not. The hartebeest has a weakness iv its 
chai icter, opposite to which the wild hound j as- 
sesses a cunning. 

The former, when chased, although it runs in r 
straight line, does not keep long in a direct course, 
Now and ther it diverges to one side or the other, 


ma WILD HOUNDS AND THE HARTEBEEST. 345 


led p erhaps by the form of the ground, or some othei 
circumstance. In this habit lies its weakness. The 
wild hound is well aware of it, and takes advantage 
of it by a manoeuvre, which certainly savors strongly 
of reflection on his part. 

Our field-cornet had a proof of this as he watched 
the chase. His elevated position gave him a view 
of the whole ground, and he could note every move- 
ment both of pursuer and pursued. 

On breaking off, the hartebeest ran in a right 
line, and the hounds followed straight after. They 
had not gone far, however, when Yon Bloom per- 
ceived that one hound was forging ahead of the rest, 
and running much faster than any of them. He 
might have been a swifter dog than the others, but 
the hunter did not think it was that. He appeared 
rather to be running harder than they, as if sent 
forward to push the hartebeest, while the rest saved 
their wind. 

This proved to be really the case ; for the dog, by 
a desperate effort, having gained upon the antelope, 
caused the latter to turn slightly from its original 
course ; and the pack, perceiving this, changed their 
direction at the same time, and held along a diagonal 
line, as if to head the game. By this means they 
avoided the detour which both the antelope and 
their companion had made. 

The hartebeest was now running upon a new line ; 
and, as before, one of the hounds was soon seen to 
head the pack, and press forward at the top of hia 
speed. The one that first led, as soon as the ante- 
lope turned from its original course, fell back, re* 


546 THE WILD HOUNDS AND THE HAKTEBEEST 

joined the pack, and was now lagging among the 
hindmost! His “turn” of duty was over. 

Again the harte'beest verged from its course. 
Again the pack ran obliquely, and made a second 
“cut” upon him ; again a fresh dog took the lead, 
and on swept the chase as before — the wild hounds 
uttering their yelping notes as they ran. 

Several times was this manoeuvre executed by the 
cunning dogs, until the desired result was accom- 
plished, and the antelope was completely “blown.” 

Then, as if they felt that it was in their power, and 
that further strategy was not needed, the whole pack 
rushed forward simultaneously, and closed rapidly 
upon the game. 

The hartebeest made one last despairing effort to 
escape ; but, finding that speed would no longer 
avail, the creature wheeled suddenly round, and 
placed itself in an attitude of defiance — the foam 
falling from its lips, while its red eyes sparkled like 
coals of fire. 

In another moment the dogs were around it. 

“ What a splendid pack ! ” exclaimed Von Bloom. 
“ 0, that I had such an one ! 

“ Ha ! ” he continued, as a new thought struck 
him, “ and why not just such an one ? — why 
not?” 

Now, the train of reflections that passed through 
the mind of the field-cornet was as follows : 

That the wild hounds might be tamed, arid trained 
to hunting, — easiest of all, to the chase of the ele- 
phant. He knew that this could be done ; for boor- 
hunters had often done it. True, the dogs must be 


THE WILD HOUNDS AND THE HARTEBEEST. 347 


taken young, but where were young ones to be 
obtained ? It is not so easy to capture the p ups of 
the wild hound. Until they are able to run well, 
their mothers do not permit them to stray far from 
the caves in which they are littered ; and these are 
usually crevices among rocks, quite inaccessible to 
man. How could he obtain a set of them ? He had 
already formed such an intention. Where could be 
their breeding-place ? 

His reflections were interrupted at this point by 
very singular behavior on the part of the wild 
hounds, and which gave him a new idea of their 
intelligence, that quite electrified him. 

When the hartebeest stood to bay, and the hounds 
came up, Yon Bloom very naturally expected to see 
the latter run in upon their game, and at once pull it 
to the ground. This he knew was their usual habit. 
What was his astonishment at seeing the whole pack 
standing off to one side, as if they intended to leave 
the antelope alone ! Some of them even lay down 
to rest themselves, while the others stood with open 
jaws and lolling tongues, but without showing any 
signs that they intended further to molest the pant- 
ing quarry. 

The field-cornet could observe the situation well ; 
for the antelope was on his side — that is, towards 
the cliffs — while the dogs were further out upon the 
plain. Another circumstance that astonished him 
was, that the dogs, after running up and around the 
hartebeest, had actually drawn off to their present 
position. 

What could it mean ? Were they afraid of its ugly 


31:8 THE WILD HOUNDS AND THE HARTEBEEST. 

horns ? Were they resting themselves before thej 
should make their bloody onslaught ? 

The hunter kept his gaze intently fixed upon the 
interesting group. 

After a while the antelope, having recovered its 
wind a little, and seeing the pack so distant, made a 
fresh start. 

This time it ran in a side direction, apparently 
with the intention of gaining a hill that lay in that 
way, and up the sides of which it no doubt calculated 
upon gaining some advantage. But the creature 
had hardly stretched itself, when the hounds struck 
out after it ; and, in five hundred yards’ running, 
once more brought it to a stand. Again the pack 
took station at a distance, and the hartebeest stood 
upon the plain alone. 

Once more it essayed to escape, and started oft 
with all the speed that was left in its legs — the 
hounds, as before, trooping after. 

This time the antelope headed in a new direction, 
taaking for a point in the cliffs ; and, as the chase 
now passed very near to the nwana-tree, everybody 
had a fine view of it. 

The hartebeest seemed to be going faster than 
ever, or, at all events, the dogs did not now appear 
to gain upon it ; and the field-cornet, as well as all 
the young people, w$re in hopes the poor creature 
would escape from its tireless pursuers. 

They watched the chase, until they could just see 
the bright body of the hartebeest afar off, appearing 
like a yellow spot upon the face of the rocks, but the 
dogs were no longer visible. Then the yellow spot 


THE WILD HOUNDS AND THE HARTEBEEST. 349 


suddenly disappeared like the going out of a caudle ; 
ani they could see it no more. 

No doubt the antelope was pulled down ! 

A strange suspicion entered the mind of Yon 
Bloom, and, calling upon them to saddle the quag- 
gas, he, with Hans and Hendrik, rode off towards 
the place where the hartebeest had been last seen. 

They approached the ground with caution ; and 
under the shelter of some bushes were enabled to 
get within two hundred yards of the spot without 
being observed. A singular spectacle rewarded 
their pains. 

Within a dozen yards of the cliff lay the body of 
the hartebeest, where it had been “ pulled down ” by 
the dogs. It was already half eaten, not by tho 
hounds that had hunted it, but by their puppies of 
all ages, that to the number of more than three-score 
were now standing around the carcass, tugging 
away at its flesh, and snarling at one another. Some 
of the grown dogs that had taken part in the chase 
could be seen lying upon the ground, still panting 
after their hard run ; but most of them had disap- 
peared, no doubt into the numerous small caves and 
crevices that opened along the bottom of the cliffs. 

There was no room left to doubt the singular fact 
that the wild hounds had regularly driven the harte- 
beest up to their breeding-place to feed their young, 
and that they had abstained from killing it out upon 
the plain to save themselves the labor of dragging it 
from a distance ! 

Indeed, these animals — unlike the Felidce — have 
not the power of transporting a large mass to any 

EE 


850 THE WILD HOUNDS AND THE HARTEBEEST. 

considerable distance ; hence the wonderful instinct 
which led them to guide the antelope to the very 
spot where its flesh was wanted I 

That they were in the constant practice of thia 
singular habit was attested, by the numerous bones 
and horns of large antelopes of different kinds, that 
lay strewed around the place. 

Von Bloom had his “eye upon the young puppies, 
and al three made a rush towards them. But it was 
to no purpose. Cunning as their fathers and moth- 
ers, the little fellows forsook their meal at first sight 
of the intruders, and darted off into their caves. 

But they were not cunning enough to escape the 
snares which were laid for them every day for a 
week after ; and, before the end of that time, more 
than a dozen of them were safely domiciled in a lit- 
tle kennel built especially for their use, under the 
shadow of the great nwana-tree. 

* * * # * * 

In less than six months from that time, several of 
them were in. the field, and trained to the chase of 
the elephant ; which duty they performed with all 
the courage and skill that could have been shown by 
hounds of the purest breed. 


CONCLUSION 


35i 


OIIAPTER XLYIII. 

CONCLUSION. 

For several years Yon Bloom led the life of an 
elephant-hunter. For several years th# great nwana- 
tree was his home, and his only companions his 
children and domestics. But, perhaps, these were 
not the least happy years of his existence, since 
during all the time both he and his family had en- 
joyed the most estimable of earthly blessings — 
health. 

He had not allowed his children to grow up with- 
out instruction. He had not permitted them to lapse 
into the character of mere “ Bush-boys.” He had 
taught them many things from the book of nature, — 
many arts that can be acquired as well on the karoo 
as in the college. He had taught them to love God, 
and to love one another. He had planted in their 
minds the seeds of the virtuous principles, — honor 
and morality, — without which all education is worth' 
less. He had imbued them with habits of industry 
and self-reliance, and had initiated them into many 
of the accomplishments of civilized life ; so that 
upon their return to society they might be quite 
equal to its claims. Upon the whole, those years of 
the exile’s life, spent in his wilderness home, formed 


852 


CONCLUSION 


no blank in his existence. He might lock back upon 
them with feelings of satisfaction and pleasure. 

Man, however, is formed for society. The human 
heart, properly organized, seeks communion with the 
human heart ; and the mind, especially when refined 
and polished by education, loves the intercourse of 
social life, and, when deprived of it, will always 
yearn to obtain it. 

So was it with the field-cornet. He desired to re- 
turn once more within the pale of civilized society. 
He desired once more to revisit the scenes where he 
had so long dwelt in peaceful happiness ; he desired 
once more to establish himself among his friends and 
acquaintances of former days, in the picturesque dis- 
trict of the Graaf Remet. Indeed, to have remained 
any longer in his wilderness home could have served 
no purpose. It is true he had grown very much at- 
tached to his wild hunter-life, but it was no longer 
likely to be profitable. The elephants had com- 
pletely forsaken the neighborhood of the camp, and 
not one was to be found within twenty miles of 
the spot. They had become well acquainted with 
the report of the long roer, and knew the dangerous 
character of that weapon ; they had learnt that of 
all their enemies man was the one to be especially 
dreaded and shunned ; and they had grown so shy 
of his presence, that the hunters frequently passed 
whole w ?eks without setting their eyes upon a single 
elephant. 

But this was no longer an object of solicitude with 
Von Bloom. Other considerations now occupied his 
mind, and he did not care much if he should never 


CONCLUSION. 


353 


spoor another of these huge quadrupeds. To return 
to the Graaf Reinet, and settle there, was now the 
ultimatum of his wishes. 

The time had at length arrived when he would be 
able to carry out that design ; and nothing seemed 
any longer to stand in the way of its full and com- 
plete accomplishment. 

The proscription against him had been long since 
taken off. A general amnesty had been passed by 
the government, and he had been pardoned among 
the rest.’ 

It is true his property was not restored to him ; 
but that mattered little now. He had created a new 
property, as was testified by the vast pyramid of 
ivory that stood under the shadow of the great 
nwana-tree. 

Nothing remained but to transport this shining 
pile to a market, and a splendid fortune would be 
the result. 

And Yon Bloom’s ingenuity found the means for 
bringing it to market. 

About this time there was dug another huge pit- 
trap near the pass in the cliffs, in which many quag- 
gas were trapped ; and then there were stirring 
scenes, while these wild creatures were being broken 
to harness, and trained to “ trek ” in a wagon. 

They were trained, however, after a good deal of 
trouble — the old wheels, still in prime condition, 
serving as the "break ; ” and then the body of the 
wagon was let down from the tree, and once more 
renewed its acquaintance with its old companions 
the wheels ; and the cap-tent spread its protecting 
23 


354 


CONCLUSION 


shadow over all ; and the white and yellow crescents 
were stowed ; and the quaggas were “inspanned ; ” 
and Swartboy, mounting the “voor-kist,” once more 
cracked his long bamboo whip ; and the wheels, well 
oiled with elephants’ grease, again whirled gayly 
along. 

How surprised were the good people of Graaf 
Reinet, when, one morning, a cap-tent wagon, drawn 
by twelve quaggas, and followed by four riders 
mounted upon animals of the same kind, pulled up 
in the public square of their little town ! How as- 
tonished they were on seeing that this wagon was 
“chuck” full of elephants’ teeth, all except a lit- 
tle corner occupied by a beautiful girl with cherry 
cheeks and fair flaxen hair ; and how joyed were 
they, in fine, on learning that the owner of both the 
ivory and the beautiful girl was no other than their 
old friend, and much-esteemed fellow-citizen, the 
field-cornet Yon Bloom ! 

A warm welcome met the elephant-hunter in the 
square of Graaf Reinet, and, what was also of some 
importance, a ready market for his ivory. 

It chanced just at that time that ivory was selling 
at a very high rate. Some article — I do not remem- 
ber what — the principal part of which required to 
be constructed of pure ivory, had come into fashion 
and gei^ral use in European countries, and the con- 
sequence was an increased demand for this valuable 
commodity. It was a fortunate circumstance for the 
returned hui.ter, who was at once enabled to dispose 
of his stock, not only for ready money, but at such 


CONCLUSION. 


356 


* fine price as to yield him nearly twice the amount 
he had calculated on receiving. 

He had not brought it all with him, as there was 
more than would have loaded any one wagon. A 
second load had remained, hidden near the nwana- 
tree ; and this required a journey to be made for it. 

It was made in due time, and the remainder ar- 
rived safely at Graaf Reinet, and was there delivered 
to the ivory-dealers, who had already purchased it. 

The result was a splendid fortune in ready money. 
The field-cornet was once more a rich man ! 

For the present we can follow his history no 
further than to say, that the proceeds of his great 
hunt enabled him to buy back his old estate, and to 
stock it in splendid style, with the best breeds of 
horses, horned cattle, and sheep ; that he rose rap- 
idly in wealth and worldly esteem ; that the govern- 
ment gave him its confidence ; and, having first 
restored him to his old office of field-cornet, soon 
afterwards promoted him to that of “ landdrost,” or 
chief magistrate of the district. 

Hans returned to his college studies ; while the 
dashing Hendrik was enabled to enter the profession 
for which he was most fit. and the very* one that 
fitted him, by obtaining a eometcy in the “ Cape 
Mounted Rifles.” 

Little Jan was packed off to school to study 
grammar and geography ; while the beautiful Triicy 
remained at home to grace the mansion of her hon- 
ored father, and look after his hr usehold affairs. 

Totty still ruled the kitchen ; and, of course, 
Swartboaf was the important man about the house, 


356 


CONCLUSION. 


and for many a long* year after cracked his great 
whip and flourished his jambok among the long- 
horned oxen of the wealthy landdrost. 

But enough for the present ; enough of adventure 
for one year. Let us hope, boy -readers, that before 
you and I have circled once more around the sun, 
we shall make a fresh trip to the land of the boors, 
and again encounter the ^worthy Von Bloom, hia 
Bushman, and — 

“ Bush-Boys.” 


T;ii£ ewa 












✓ 
































I 














- 












. 

I 

• • • - 

v - • , . * 

> - v 

*. / 


* 










n 
















v 

.* 






















/ 
















* 

\ 























































































> 














































N 
































































\ 






























V 












































































































- < 






































































































































































• * 









































































































































































































* 





























































































































































































































